
i 



I 


) 


I 







f 


1 4 



I 




t 






« 






r 



« 


I 




» 






M 


I 




t 


I 


i 


i 




4 


I 




\ 


I 




V 


i 


i 


t 






( 

s 






( 










) 


% 



Comrades of the Desert 

A Story for Boys 


BY 

RUTH .THOMPSON 

\\ 



1921 

HARR WAGNER PUBLISHING CO. 
San Francisco 
California 



Copyrighted 1920 
By Ruth Thompson 



AM 3u /S‘2/ 

©CIA624138 


CONTENTS. 


Frontispiece 

I. Good News 9 

H. The Newcomer 19 

in. Sidewinder Club 28 

IV. Bob to the Rescue 39 

T. Red Rock Canyon 48 

VI. Gold Mining on the Desert 54 

VII. At the Home of Lean Jim 62 

Vin. The Story of Goler and Desert Gold .... 67 

IX. Saving the Claim 76 

I. The Big Fight 83 

XI. Progress 91 

XII. Jolly Wins a Victory 98 

Xm. Preparations for the Rodeo 108 

XIV. Rounding Up the Cattle 114 

XV. A Badger Hole Makes Mischief 119 

XVI. Various Lessons Learned on a Sunday Walk . 126 

XVII. Lessons in Endurance 134 

XVin. Sister Mary Plans a Surprise 140 

XHI. ‘‘Prom Desert Friends 145 

XX. An Enemy Appears 150 

XXI. The End of the Trail 158 

XXII. The City of the Angels 165 

XXIII. The Last Battle Won 170 



TO FATHER AND MOTHER 








T 







W 

» 


ft 

t 


« 

* 


► 


\ 


I 


I 


I . ♦ 



I 


r 


i' 


f 




I 

1 


t. 




• t 




• > 

I 

I 













t 










4 


4 


4 




4 


J 


4 


I 




I 


I 








f- 


I 


i 


$ 


4 


4 


I 


i 


S 


# 


r 




i 


I 


I 



♦ 



? 


1 4 





.t 


I 


I 



k 


I 


1 ^ 








» 

» 

» 



« 


. ^ 


t 




V 




J 






t** i 

. * M 


: ^ 
SF vX '' 


jmL 4 ^ 



t 1 





“IN RED ROCK CANYON." (See Chapter 5.)— The Great Temple of the Sun in the desert, 
125 feet high, with a series of terraced entrance-ways and partially-crumbled walls forming an 
elliptical enclosure 150 feet in diameter — an ideal amphitheater. At its base recently was picked 
up the petrified heel bone of the largest saber-tooth tiger ever found on this hemisphei’e 




COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


CHAPTER I. 

GOOD NEWS. 

‘‘Whoop-ee! Toot, toot!” came a round of merry- 
voices around the corner of the desert shack in 
which Jolly lived with his parents, sister Mary and 
baby brother Jim on the Mojave desert, in Califor- 
nia. There was the sound of whacking, and, pick- 
ing his way lazily through the scattered woodpile, 
came a gray burro, with two lively boys on his 
back. A damp nose was thrust into Jolly’s hand, 
and a brown, wiggling, thin little dog tried to ex- 
press his joy upon seeing Jolly. 

In spite of all spurring and hearty whacks with 
a stick, the burro now came to a full stop in the 
middle of the woodpile. He bent his head, and 
sniffed at a tin can, and stood in deep thought. 
Once more the stick came down on his back with 
a resounding thump, and, tossing his head. Master 
Burro decided that this was a last indignity. He 
kicked up his hind feet, almost standing on his 
head, and, with a quick, ducking motion, expressive 


10 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


of extreme disgust at moving a step farther, two 
boys were thrown from his back to the ground. 
The boys were filled with laughter, and looked ad- 
miringly at the burro. 

“Olad you can move in some direction, anyway!” 
cried freckled-face Sam, one of those tossed so un- 
ceremoniously downwards. 

The burro chewed the paper off the tin can, which 
he decided was too good to be left alone, and ig- 
nored all remarks. 

“Why didn’t you use the saddle?” asked Jolly, 
when he had ceased laughing at the antics of his 
lively visitors. 

“Father is using it riding the range today,” an- 
swered Sam. “He hasn’t seen the spotted cow for 
some time, and thinks she is calving. I like to ride 
bareback best, anyway, when I ride Jinks,” he 
fondled the burro’s head, “but, best of all, if I 
mean to get any place, I like to walk, and be sure 
I get there ! ’ ’ 

The dog now demanded some notice. He was 
jumping around Jolly and wagging his tail contin- 
ually. 

“Hello, Keeno!” greeted Jolly, at last, turning 
his attention to the dog. “Where have you been, 
anyway ? ’ ’ 

“He’s been visiting at our house,” volunteered 
Sam’s brother Grant. “Yesterday afternoon, when 


GOOD NEWS 


11 


I got home from school, I saw Keeno chasing some- 
thing through the sagebrush. I got Ma’s opera- 
glasses, and saw he was chasing a rabbit over the 
sand dunes. He did not get the old Jack, and he 
came to me for sympathy, I guess. Anyway, I gave 
him that, and a chunk of cornbread, and he liked it 
so well he stayed all night.” 

“I don’t think much of a dog that can’t stay 
home,” scolded Jolly. ‘‘Last night we heard the 
coyotes yapping and howling close to the house, 
and Dad wondered where Keeno was. Some morn- 
ing we’ll wake up and find the chickens gone.” 

Jolly called the dog to the corner of the house, 
and, taking a strap, fastened it around his neck and 
chained him. He gave him a friendly pat on the 
head, and turned to his friends. 

“Well, fellows, I’ve got to saw up these railroad 
ties, because Mother said she wanted to bake bread 
this morning. Anything doing on the desert to- 
day f ’ ’ 

Sam and Grant followed Jolly to the woodpile, 
and both winked simultaneously at each other when 
Jolly was not looking. They helped Jolly lift one 
of the ties to the woodpile, though Grant had to 
run ahead and lead Jinks from the place, but Jinks 
was quite content, for he had found a rag half 
buried in the sand, and found it good chewing. 

“I am waiting for that wood. Jolly,” called a 


12 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


voice from the shack, and, looking up, Sam and 
Grant took off their sombreros to Jolly’s mother, 
who stood in the doorway, shading her eyes from 
the sun. 

The three boys picked up the remainder of the 
wood which was chopped, and took it to the house, 
and if Jolly had not been quite so occupied with 
his job he would have noticed a secret exulting 
look in his friends’ faces. 

“It was a year ago today that we came on our 
homestead on the desert,” said Jolly, as the lads 
went back to the place where he was going to saw 
the ties. ‘ ‘ Mamma said this morning that she 
thought the desert was a hard place to live, because 
we cannot buy anything fresh to eat, and nothing 
will grow because we haven’t the water; but she 
says she does not mind trying to manage, and it’s 
a pretty healthy place. We only have two more 
years, and then we will own the homestead.” 

“We only have about a year and a half,” chimed 
in Grant, “but my Pa says maybe before long the 
desert will be reclaimed, and we will have water 
from the mountains to irrigate with. Gee! wouldn’t 
that be great? We can’t afford to spend the five 
months of the year we are allowed to off the home- 
stead. ” 

“We can’t, either,” said Jolly, “and I’m in the 
eighth grade now, and I want to go to high school. 


GOOD NEWS 


13 


I have been thinking all morning about going, be- 
cause this is March, and school will be out pretty 
soon. ’ ’ 

Jolly began sawing the wood. “Miss Bowen said 
I’d pass if I kept on doing good work, and I must 
go to the high school next year!” 

Jolly’s eyes glistened with determination, and 
Sam and Grant nodded their heads. 

“We’ll have finished homesteading about the 
time we are ready for the high school,” said Grant, 
“ ’cause we’re in the seventh grade now.” 

The log was sawed at one end now, and as it fell 
to the ground Sam picked up the ax and split it 
for the stove. 

The boys were accustomed to doing all they could 
to help at home, for living on the desert was most 
primitive, and it was hard for every family to man- 
age. 

Fremont Valley, where the lads lived, was named 
after General Fremont, the Great Pathfinder of the 
West. A peak about sixty miles away, and tower- 
ing over the valley, was named after him, and it is 
said that the Fremont trail was through this desert 
valley, which has an interesting history. The great 
stretches of gray sagebrush and green greasewood 
is broken only by bare, skeleton hills rising jagged 
and gaunt from the ground at intervals, and similar 
hills, growing larger and more sharp, form the 


14 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


walls of the valley on three sides. To the south, 
the mountains are farther removed, and are visible 
only on the clearest days, when they rise, a beauti- 
ful blue, above the gray of the sage, which appears 
to touch their base. These mountains are snow- 
capped, and beyond them lies Los Angeles, the City 
of the Angels. 

Living on the desert is difficult, as Jolly’s mother 
had said. Those who had taken homesteads had no 
water, no garden, no conveniences of any kind. 
The amount of land which one may take up is any- 
where from one hundred and sixty acres to the full 
government allowance to homesteaders, three hun- 
dred and twenty acres. It is not cleared, and the 
homesteader has to clear and put under cultivation 
at least one-eighth of it. He must develop water 
for domestic purposes, and have a habitable build- 
ing on the ground. These buildings are usually 
wooden shacks of very few rooms, and some of 
them have dirt floors. 

Jolly often thought of pioneers, of whom he had 
read in his history and story books, and made com- 
parisons in the manner of living. His reading 
chiefly concerned settlers in the Middle West, and 
he did not see that his mother had any easier time 
than did the stepmother of Abraham Lincoln. 

Perhaps the greatest difference was the kind of 
land. On the desert there were no forests to clear, 


GOOD NEWS 


15 


unless it was a forest of cacti or Joshua trees. 
Therefore, there was no wood for burning on the 
desert, unless the homesteaders could buy ties from 
the railroad company. In this case it meant much 
work for the boys, who had to saw them up and 
split them for the stove. The sagebrush roots make 
a bright fire for a short time. They blaze up almost 
like a sheet of paper, and burn out almost as quick- 
ly. The mesquite trees make excellent firewood, 
though it is a shame to destroy the feW trees that 
make shade in this land of sunshine. 

Sam and Grant began to show signs of restless- 
ness, as Jolly steadily sawed the wood. He could 
not saw as fast as his companions could split the 
wood as he threw it on the pile. 

Sam was irrepressible after the prolonged silence, 
and, nodding to Grant, he burst forth with the 
news he had been trying to keep to himself all 
morning. His freckled face was shining with anti- 
cipation of the wonderful surprise he was going to 
give his friend. 

“Jolly, I know something great!’’ 

The industrious Jolly caught the note of excite- 
ment in Sam’s voice, and stopped his work. 

“Well, out with it!” 

“Don’t you wish you were not the only one in 
the eighth grade, Jolly?” tantalizingly queried 
Sam. 


16 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


“You know I do/’ impatiently answered Jolly. 
“I might run more chance of getting to the high 
school if there was another fellow graduating with 
me this year, and if he told his dad he must go 
away to school. Besides,” he added, warming to 
his subject, which was one very close to his heart, 
“think of the sport of having some one to recite 
and study with. I’ll bet I’d get ahead of him, 
too!” 

Jolly was so busy thinking of his imaginary rival 
in the eighth grade that he almost forgot that Sam 
had a great piece of news. But Sam had not for- 
gotten. 

“Your wish has come true. Old Timer.” Sam 
stopped to see what effect this news had on his 
friend. 

The effect was certainly electrical, for Jolly drop- 
ped his saw, tossed his hat in the air, and jumped 
as high as the sawhorse. Keeno, glad to see his 
master happy, began yelping in sympathy from the 
corner where he was tied. 

“Tell me about it, quick!” commanded Jolly, 
still greatly excited. “I can’t wait another min- 
ute!” 

“At the breakfast table this morning,” began 
Sam, “Dad said that he had heard that the old 
Adams shack had been rented to a Mr. and Mrs. 
Borton, and that they had a boy.” 


GOOD NEWS 


1.7 


“Yes?” insisted Jolly. “Go on.” 

“Well, this morning, when Grant and I were 
going to the store, we saw a stranger just driving 
to it. A puff of wind blew his hat off, and I ran 
and caught it for him. He thanked me, and asked 
me if I went to school here. I told him I did, and 
he said he had a boy in the eighth grade, and he 
hoped his kid would like the school here. I told 
him he was sure to. He said his kid’s name was 
Bob, and he’d come on tonight’s train with his 
mother. ” 

Jolly was still bubbling with delight when Sam 
completed his recital. He expressed his delight 
first in untying the gratified Keeno and then rush- 
ing to the house to tell his mother that he was to 
have a companion in the eighth grade. 

“I guess Bob will be here in time for school on 
Monday,” decided Jolly, when he came from the 
house. 

“His father said he would begin Monday,” Sam 
replied. 

Grant now ran and found Jinks lying in the 
shade of the house. With much effort in scolding, 
several kicks and a stick, he made the lazy burro 
get up and amble to the woodpile, where he and 
Sam mounted. 

“I don’t know if we will ever get home, but we 


18 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


might as well make a start,” announced Grant. 
“So long.” 

“Adios!” called Jolly, as the burro actually 
started at a trot across the desert, with the two 
kicking boys on his hack. 


THE NEWCOMER 


19 


CHAPTER H. 

THE NEWCOMER. 

The next day was Sunday, and Jolly awakened 
feeling that something very nice had happened. As 
soon as he had rubbed his eyes, and was thoroughly 
awake, he remembered. He was happy because. 
Bob Borton was to arrive on the train that had 
come in the past night, and Jolly wondered if he 
had really come. 

Mr. Hale, Jolly’s father, had called Jolly by his 
name because he was such a happy little baby, and 
as the boy grew older, he was now fourteen, he 
retained his happy disposition. All his friends 
called him by his adopted name, for he was a great 
favorite. 

Mr. Hale greeted his son that morning with a 
sympathetic smile: 

“I think your new friend must have come last 
night,” he said, “for I heard some people walking 
past the house after train time.” 

“Will it be all right. Dad, if I walk over to the 
old Adams shack with Keeno and see if Bob has 
come?” 


20 


COMEADES OF THE DESERT 


It was at this moment that Keeno began to bark 
I excitedly, and,' running to the door. Jolly saw a 
man, with a tall, lanky boy, approaching the house 
through the brush. 

Mr. Hale, knowing how anxious his son was to 
meet the newcomer, walked out of the door with 
Jolly, and stood in the morning sunshine, awaiting 
the visitors. 

He greeted them with a smiling “Good morn- 
ing,” which met with a hearty response. Jolly and 
. Bob eyed one another in a friendly manner, as 
two dogs would greet with doubtfuUy wagging 
tails. Mr. Hale and Mr. Borton smiled at each 
other, as they observed the first overtures of friend- 
ship. 

Jolly saw a lad somewhat taller and thinner than 
he, and dressed, not in overalls and a shirt, with 
sleeves rolled up, as he was, but a regular suit of 
clothes, just as if the young stranger were going to 
church in a city. 

Jolly’s feelings were hurt, and he felt a little 
abashed, but he came straight to the point: 

“You can’t have any fun in those clothes,” he 
said. 

Bob fiushed. “My mother hasn’t unpacked yet. 
I’ll soon look just like you, anyway. Wait and see 
if I don’t.” 

Jolly took this as a real compliment, and he was 


THE NEWCOMER 


21 


appeased. This was the beginning of a warm 
friendship between the two lads, and they were 
soon comparing notes of all kinds. 

“I thought it was so awful hot on the desert,” 
said Bob. “It is cold now, and it was colder this 
morning. ’ ’ 

“You see this is only March,” Jolly told him. 
“It certainly does get cold here in winter. We 
had a little snow in January. It was just a thin 
sheet, and melted before night came, but we had a 
pile of fun, I can tell you. In the canyons the snow 
did not melt for several weeks, where the sun did 
not shine on it. But I can tell you. Bob, it will get 
hot pretty soon, and in summer the thermometer 
will go up to one hundred and twenty.” 

Bob looked impressed, and Jolly went on: “It 
will not be very warm today, I think.” 

“Why not?” asked Bob. “The sun is burning 
my neck while I stand here.” 

Jolly pointed to the western hills, where the en- 
trance of a canyon was about five miles away. 

“That’s Jawbone Canyon, and whenever you see 
that row of fluffy clouds rising over the mountains 
in back, you will know that a hard wind will blow, 
and if it is in the spring, fall or winter, the wind 
will cool things off.” 

This piece of knowledge from the desert weather 
prophet greatly impressed Bob, and he showed it 
by asking another question: 


22 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


“Why is it called Jawbone Canyon?’' 

“Some people tell one story and some another,” 
said Jolly. think it is because a mound was 
found in the canyon, and when the people dug it 
open it was found to be a grave for a lot of the 
jaw bones of white people killed by the Indians. 
The other story told is that some hill or other looks 
like a human jaw bone, but I have never been able 
to see it.” 

This was very interesting to the new boy on the 
desert. 

“How do you know so much, anyway?” he asked. 

“I don’t really know much,” Jolly replied, mod- 
estly. “You just happen to ask me things that I 
do know. I tell you what, some day you will meet 
Little Jack Horner and Lean Jim. They are old 
timers here, and, believe me, they can tell some 
hair raisers!” 

“But what funny names they have!” 

Jolly laughed. “In mining camps men are never 
called by their right names, but their companions 
call them names that are most appropriate to them, 
just like the Indians do, I think. You know, in 
‘Hiawatha’ Minnehaha means ‘laughing water,’ so 
in desert talk Lean Jim means that Jim is lean, and 
Little Jack Horner is really small. The story goes 
how his wife gave him a piece of pie one night, and 
told him to get in the corner out of her way, while 
she used the table to pack a lunch box for a social 


THE NEWCOMER 


23 


we were going to have. Ever since then he has 
been called Little Jack Horner. He said in the 
Indian Territory they used to call him ‘Short and 
Dirty/ but he does remind me of the Mother Goose 
rhyme when I think of his being in the corner.’’ 

The boys laughed, and Jolly added: “You’ll 
meet all those fellows, and, believe me, they will 
tell some stories of the desert! Do you like it 
here?” 

Bob nodded his head emphatically: “I’ve always 
lived in a city, and I just thought the desert was 
an awful hot, dry place, but now I think it will 
be lots of fun, and I hope we’ll really see the mines, 
hear stories, and may be we might find a mine 
ourselves. ’ ’ 

Jolly nodded his head. He had thought of that 
before. 

Mr. Borton and Mr. Hale came around the cor- 
ner of the house, carrying a piece of stovepipe, 
which Mr. Borton had come to borrow. During 
their absence the boys had discussed their school 
work to their mutual satisfaction, as well as the 
desert, and Jolly was glad to realize that Bob was 
as anxious to go to the high school as he was. He 
also said he did not know if his father could afford 
to let him go alone to the city. 

Jolly walked towards home with Mr. Borton and 
Bob and helped to carry the stovepipe. 

“Your father said we could borrow the mules to 


24 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


haul our furniture/’ announced Mr. Borton. ‘‘We 
have a machine waiting for us at the siding, too. 
It is a new one. That is why we did not drive it 
here. It did not come in time.” 

All of a sudden Bob gave a jump and a squeal. 
He dropped his portion of the stovepipe, and left 
on the run. Jolly yelled at him: 

“What is the matter?” 

Mr. Borton himself laughed, as he saw his son 
jumping through the brush like a rabbit. 

“A snake!” cried Bob, stopping, now that he 
saw the others were not following him. 

A rattle like the faint shake of pebbles in a glass 
jar could be heard, and Jolly was alive with excite- 
ment. \ 

‘ ‘ It ’s a sidewinder ! ” he called. ‘ ‘ The first of the 
season, I guess.” 

Mr. Borton stepped rapidly towards his son. He 
also believed in being at a safe distance from such 
danger, but Jolly was equal to meeting the snake. 
He picked up a big stone, and, ptiering through 
the brush, saw the snake winding its way to the 
open. When it heard the step it lay quiet a sec- 
ond, then started, ready to strike. Jolly stepped 
quickly towards the ugly looking snake, and just 
as it lifted its head he dropped the rock down on 
it, crushing the head and leaving the writhing body 
half ninned under the stone. 


THE NEWCOMER 


25 


“Bravo!” shouted Mr. Borton, coming to look 
at the remains. 

Jolly -was jubilant. “You see, he is out early. 
The sun was warm on the ground, and he thought 
summer had come. These snakes lie dormant in 
the ground, or in crevices, all winter, and they are 
sluggish when they first come out. The old fellow 
meant mischief to me!” 

The boys counted the rattles on the twisting 
body. There were four. 

“That means he is four years old!” exclaimed 
Jolly. 

The three stood and watched the body of the 
snake as it twisted on the ground. 

“Isn’t that nasty?” shuddered Bob. “It’s dead, 
isn’t it?” 

“Sure it’s dead, but it will keep on wiggling 
until sundown. Honest, it will!” he added, as he 
saw the unbelieving face of Bob. “It is always 
said so, and I’ve seen ’em, and, what is more, they 
say the Indians sometimes eat snakes, and I know 
a man who said he had tasted a cooked snake. He 
said it was not half bad.” 

Bob was still thinking of this as a very disgust- 
ing meal, when Jolly took his knife from his pocket, 
bent down, and stretched the snake out, and ripped 
it down the stomach from head to tail. He peeled 
the skin, including the rattles, off the twisting 
body. 


26 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


‘‘I’ll dry this for you,” Jolly told Bob, “and you 
can wear it on your hat for a band. A snake skin 
looks fine on a sombrero, and cowboys and other 
desert men often wear them. I have a glass bottle 
of rattles at home. I’ll show them to you some 
time. These snakes grow a rattle for each year 
they live.” 

“I never heard of a rattlesnake called a side- 
winder before,” said Mr. Borton. 

“Didn’t you notice how he went for us sideways? 
That’s where he gets his name. He also has those 
small horns. He can .get over the ground quicker 
than a rattlesnake, and is not quite so long, usual- 
ly,” Jolly explained. “Some time when you’re 
walking on the desert you might find what will 
look like a silver snake, but it will just be the skin 
that some snake has crawled out of in shedding.” 

Bob grinned. He was happy, and he thought the 
desert was the most wonderful place in the world. 

The three had walked almost a mile and a half, 
and were now nearing their destination. A puff of 
wind came up and swirled past them, taking Mr. 
Borton ’s hat with it. 

“That^s the second time you’ve caught my hat 
since I’ve been here,” laughed Bob’s father, as he 
thanked Jolly for catching the hat. 

Another sweep of wind came, and then a steady 
blast, which made walking difficult. 


THE NEWCOMER 


27 


‘‘That is just what you said would happen!” 
exclaimed Bob to Jolly. “Will it blow all day 
now?” 

“The clouds look as if it would, and it may blow 
all night, and another day, too. Be glad you don’t 
live just west of a plowed field, and get all the 
dust that blows. It blows dust so thick at the 
schoolhouse sometimes we can’t go out for recess. 
The dust gets in the room and nearly suffocates us, 
and it makes our papers and books dirty, too.” 

Before going home Jolly helped to adjust the 
stovepipe, and Bob watched, and, seeing how much 
Jolly knew of desert life and ways of managing, 
he made up his mind that he would learn every- 
thing as rapidly as he could, because it was so in- 
teresting. 


28 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


CHAPTER HI. 

SIDEWINDER CLUB. 

Walking to school was always a pleasant time 
to Jolly, though he had two miles at least to go. 
He noticed everything on the way, and knew the 
stones and sagebrush, the different holes of the 
chipmunks, badgers and squirrels. Often he saw 
them scuttle from his path, for they never would 
be friendly. He was only sorry that he did not 
have to cross the big, dry wash, which was about 
ten or fifteen feet deep in places and several times 
as wide. It was there that the coyotes skulked, 
the snakes hid, and the bobcats found a hiding 
place in the small nooks of the ragged sides of the 
gulch. 

In the winter after a rain, water would rush 
madly down the gulch for a few days; then it 
would trickle, and then dry up. The cattle roam- 
ing on the desert, some belonging to Sam’s and 
Grant’s father, would stand on the brink of the 
wash and look at the water. If they stood too 
near, perhaps the crumbling dirt at the edge would 
give way, and the clumsy steer would slide down. 
He might even land at the bottom with a broken 


SIDEWINDER CLUB 


29 


leg, or some other injury, and if the cowboys did 
not frequently ride the range to discover just such 
accidents, the steer would die in the wash, and the 
coyotes, by night, and the scavenger buzzards, by 
day, would feast on the body of the unlucky ani- 
mal, and leave the bones to bleach and crumble in 
the desert sands. 

On this Monday morning, when Jolly was to 
have a fellow student in the eighth grade for the 
first time, he was especially happy. He trudged 
along with his lunch in a paper sack, because he 
did not want the trouble of carrying a tin box 
home again. The morning was clear and bright, 
and the spring wildflowers were just beginning to 
bloom. There had not been as much rain as usual 
this season, but the desert was a carpet of soft 
green beneath the sage. Here and there a wild- 
flower reared its pretty head. Wildflowers on the 
desert are one mass of brilliant coloring when in 
bloom. They are red, purple, blue, gold and vary- 
ing shades of every color. 

Jolly had noticed, in picking them, that they 
had roots like claws, or were very straight and 
long, and went deep under the ground. They often 
spread out in every direction, while on top of the 
ground the plant was but a tiny shoot. He asked 
Miss Bowen why this was. She had told him that 
the little plants, like tlo/e large ones on the desert. 


30 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


had to have their roots spread out to get what 
moisture there is in the ground to keep the plant 
alive. This was very interesting to Jolly, and he 
always tried, when he picked the flowers, not to 
pull them up by the roots. 

Jolly’s walk to school, led him past the shack 
where the Bortons were living, and as he drew 
near he was joined by Bob, who had been watching 
for him. 

It was as Sam had prophesied. Bob was de- 
lighted with the school, and found it very different 
from a city school. The building was one room, 
and all grades were in it. Miss Bowen taught her 
classes one after another, and she was so sensible 
and pleasant that the children did their best to 
make the day run smoothly, as a rule, though there 
were days when even Jolly would throw a spitball 
or get into mischief. 

There were about fourteen children in the school, 
and they came over the desert on burros, horseback 
or in buggies. One of the little girls’ mothers had 
a machine, and drove some of the other girls to 
school. They often called for Miss Bowen, too. 

It was at noon when all the children and Miss 
Bowen were eating lunch together, that Jolly and 
Bob were talking as usual of going to the high 
school, and Jolly said that he was going to be a 
doctor, he thought. 


SIDEWINDER CLUB 


31 


‘"Why don’t yon boys go to high school next 
year if you want to so much?” asked Miss Bowen. 

J oily was always straightforward, and he an- 
swered the truth without a second thought or any 
false pride: 

“Our fathers haven’t any money to send us.” 

Miss Bowen smiled. “That is not much of a rea- 
son,” she said, gently. “I wanted to be a teacher, 
and did not have the money. I was not very well 
before I came to the desert, so I could not work 
and go to school at the same time, the way some 
girls do at the normal school. I borrowed the 
money, and have since paid it back.” 

She waited while her four boys. Jolly, Bob, Grant 
and Sam, thought of this. 

Jolly was the first to speak and draw the con- 
clusion : 

“Why,” he said, “we are strong and well. I 
wonder if we could possibly earn enough money to 
go to Los Angeles and go to school.” 

Miss Bowen laughed. “I thought you’d under- 
stand. Now, let’s us think of how you can earn 
money on the desert.” 

“Oh, I know what let’s do,” Bob squealed, sud- 
denly, as the inspiration came to him. “Let’s have 
a club, like people in cities do. Pa told me a club 
was always formed with a purpose. We will have 
a club with the purpose of making money ourselves 


32 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


to send us through the high school, and, of course, 
later we can earn money for college!” • 

Bob was regarded as the hero of the moment. 
His idea made Jolly stand up and shout with glee. 
He rushed to Bob and gave him a resounding slap 
on the back: 

“You pretend to admire me because I know so 
much about the desert, but it seems to me that you 
have some pretty keen ideas yourself, even if you 
are from a city!” he added, generously. 

Bob was gratified, and he looked at Miss Bowen, 
who was smiling at her pupils. In her opinion, she 
had the very nicest children in the world. 

“Your idea is a good one, and I am glad the 
boys take to it,” she said. 

“Can’t we belong to the club, too?” asked Sam, 
anxiously. “Grant and I will be ready for high 
school in another year.” 

Jolly and Bpb nodded their heads, and yelled, 
“Sure!” at the same time. 

“That means the seventh and eighth grades will 
be members of the club, with the purpose of put- 
ting money in a common treasury for the members 
of the club to pay their way through the first year 
of high school. After that, you should be able to 
get a job in the city to pay your expenses. Is that 
right?” asked Miss Bowen. 

The four future members of the club agreed that 
this was the idea. 


SIDEWINDER CLUB 


33 


“What shall we name the club?” asked the prac- 
tical Grant. 

“The Sidewinder Club!” shouted Bob, waving 
his paper napkin. “Call it the Sidewinder Club!” 

Miss Bowen joined in the laughter that followed 
Bob’s suggestion. 

“That isn’t a bit appropriate,” said Jolly, de- 
cidedly, as he bit into his cake. 

But Bob was ready to support his own idea, 
which seemed wonderful to him, and he argued: 

“It is appropriate to the desert, and we are typi- 
cal desert kids, aren’t we?” he asked, swelling 
proudly. “We want something that sounds very 
deserty. At least I do, because I already love the 
desert, and want to be as much like it and a part 
of it as possible.” 

This roused the love of the desert land in the 
hearts of the boys, and Bob had won his point 
without further argument. 

Jolly, who had been the first to criticise, was the 
first to agree: 

“You are right,” he announced. “I would like 
a desert name, too, and now we stand two in favor. 
What do you kids say?” turning to Grant and Sam. 

Grant and Sam held Jolly in high respect, and 
his opinion counted with them, even when they saw 
Bob’s enthusiastic viewpoint. They agreed at once, 
and so the Sidewinder Club was formed. 


34 


COMRADES OP THE DESERT 


Before the close of the noon hour Jolly was voted 
by his fellow members to be what they called the 
Father Sidewinder, or, in other words, he was to 
be the president and treasurer of the club, with 
Bob as his assistant, and Sam and Grant to help 
in every way possible. It was agreed that three 
of the four members must be in favor of every 
action of the club, and that Miss Bowen was to be 
consulted in all matters of importance. 

“There is one thing we have forgotten,” sug- 
gested Bob, as the five-minute bell rang, and there 
was a rush for the soap and wash bowl near the 
well. 

Between splutters of water and a mouthful of 
soap. Jolly asked what it was, but the last bell was 
ringing, and it was against the rule to talk after 
that, and every one stampeded to get into line by 
the time Miss Bowen was at the front door with 
the triangle, which the best behaved of the four- 
teen was to tap for the coming week. As every 
one was in such good order. Miss Bowen awarded 
the privilege to Bob, because he was a new student, 
and to this the children agreed. 

Monday afternoon was always composition time. 
This Monday afternoon Miss Bowen had read the 
story of “Kit Carson and the Bear,” and she told 
the children it was said that Kit Carson had passed 
through Kern county when he was in California, 


SIDEWINDER CLUB 


35 


and, though no record had been left on the desert 
of his wanderings, it was reported that he had 
carved a mark in a tree in the mountains near 
Lebec, about forty miles south of Bakersfield. The 
next assignment made the faces of Jolly, Bob, Sam 
and Grant beam with joy: 

“The seventh and eighth grades are to have for 
the subject of their composition today, ‘How I Can 
Earn Money on the Desert.’ ” 

Miss Bowen smiled as she saw the faces of her 
boys light up. It was this delightful faculty of 
always doing what made her students the happiest 
while learning that made her so dear to their hearts 
and also helped to make them try to please her in 
every way. They knew this was a practical as well 
as an interesting lesson. 

When time for recitation came the suggestions 
made by the four boys for earning money sur- 
prised Miss Bowen. Each was allowed to read his 
composition for criticism, favorable and unfavor- 
able, before the paper was handed to her for fur- 
ther correction, and the room was very quiet, 
almost intense, as the first of the four boys made 
his suggestion. 

Jolly was first. He read a good paper, in which 
he declared that money might be made by desert 
boys if they would trap or kill coyotes and rab- 
bits, and sell the pelts. He told of a man he knew 


36 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


who sold fifteen coyote skins at five dollars apiece 
and thirty rabbit skins at fifty cents apiece. The 
man had realized ninety dollars on the sale. Jolly 
explained in his composition that there were many 
rabbits on the desert, and if there was no other 
way to do he would ask the desert people to have 
a rabbit drive. This meant that every one on the 
desert available would, on a certain morning, arrive 
with his lunch and a big stick. A corral of chicken 
fence wire would be built, quite large, with but 
two sides. Those coming to the hunt would form 
a semi-circle of perhaps three miles, and then grad- 
ually the circle of people would close in on the 
corral, beating the brush with their clubs and driv- 
ing all the rabbits before them in the corral. It 
may be some coyotes would be taken in the net, 
and that would add more money to the fund. 

When the rabbits were corralled the men would 
hit them on the head with their clubs, and kill 
them, and help skin them. The members of the 
Sidewinder Club would then take charge of them, 
and sell them to a firm with which they had con- 
tracted before the drive. They could also sell the 
meat of the rabbits or give it to those who had 
helped in the drive. 

Jolly concluded his composition by stating that 
the county board of supervisors, according to what 
he had read in the Bakersfield morning paper, were 


SIDEWINDER CLUB 


37 


offering a bounty of $2.50 for coyote scalps, so the 
profit was sure on them. 

The brilliancy of the ideas in this composition 
held the hearers spellbound and breathless for a 
minute, and even Miss Bowen looked surprised as 
a knowledge of how to go about things had been 
revealed by Jolly. 

She asked him how he knew his facts, and if they 
were reliable. 

“I am sure they are reliable,’’ answered Jolly. 
“I read in a Bakersfield paper how it was done in 
the Arvin district last spring, and when the farmer 
adviser for the county drove through here from 
Inyokern, a little later, I asked him about it, and 
he told me. Why, they even had the moving pic- 
tures there to take the picture of the people driving 
the rabbits in, and then of the pile of rabbits on 
the ground when they had been killed. There were 
hundreds of rabbits.” 

Miss Bowen shuddered, and so did the little girls, 
who had stopped studying to listen, the lesson was 
so interesting. Miss Bowen allowed her children 
this privilege when something exceptionally inter- 
esting and instructive was going forward. 

Jolly’s composition had occupied wo much time, 
and such a discussion had followed, which was of 
benefit to all the children, that it was recess time 
before any one realized it. 


38 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


“We will continue with the other compositions 
tomorrow afternoon, and I will correct Jolly ^s for 
him, ’ ’ said Miss Bowen, when she saw how the time 
was flying. 

At the close of school Miss Bowen suggested that 
the boys look up the actual cost of their living in 
Los Angeles for the next winter, including their 
clothes. 


BOB TO THE RESCUE 


39 


CHAPTER IV. 

BOB TO THE RESCUE. 

Bob was the happiest of the boys who gathered 
at school the next morning. Jolly ivrondered if it 
was ignorance as to what seemed to him a catas- 
trophe that made Bob not only look serene, but 
actually triumphant, as though some secret knowl- 
edge buoyed him up. Sam and Grant were as 
downcast as Jolly, and the reason was soon appar- 
ent. 

Miss Bowen tripped along as lightly and happily 
as usual in the morning when she walked to school. 
Her smiling greeting did not meet with very ready 
smiles from any except Bob. 

“Why, what can be the matter with my boys 
this morning?” inquired Miss Bowen. 

Jolly grunted: “Sidewinder Club all off.” 

“Why?” demanded Miss Bowen. 

“Cost too much,” growled Jolly. Then he tried 
to cheer up. “No use fussing and making people 
unhappy or crying over spilt milk, ^specially when 
your name is Jolly,” he said: “but Dad and I with 
Mamma to help, sat down last night to figure up 


40 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


how much we boys would have to raise for Bob 
and me to go to high school next winter, and first 
thing Dad said was that after the war we’d have 
to pay about forty dollars a month for room, board 
and laundry for ten months, without counting any- 
thing else. That means four hundred dollars for 
one and eight hundred for two. Then, counting 
for clothes, books, and any other extras, it would 
come to a little more than a thousand dollars. How 
can four kids earn that much money in less than 
six months?” 

Sam and Orant agreed. They had come to the 
same conclusion at home when trying to work out 
the problem. 

Miss Bowen herself was somewhat taken aback, 
perhaps, at such figures, but she turned to Bob 
before she offered any solution to the present diffi- 
culty, and Bob was ready: 

“My father said we could get room and board 
and do our own laundry for twenty-five dollars a 
month, in spite of the war making everything so 
high.” 

Bob was conscious of the attention he was get- 
ting, and held his hearers in suspense for a moment 
while he picked a piece of sagebrush from his trou- 
ser leg. 

“My Aunt Helen lives near a high school, and 
she has an attic and some cots in it. Father said 


BOB TO THE RESCUE 


41 


she would let us stay at her house and fix up the 
attic. We could keep it clean, and all the trouble 
and expense it would be for her would be the food. 
I think she would let us do our own washing, 
maybe, but Father says she would mend and keep 
us clean, because she likes boys, and would be glad 
to help us. On account of the war making every- 
thing cost so much, she might have to charge us 
about twenty a month apiece, but we can surely 
meet that. ’ ’ 

Jolly was all smiles again, as were Sam and 
Grant. 

“How does your bill of expenses run?” asked 
Miss Bowen. 

“It would be something like this,” answered 
Bob, taking a paper from his pocket. “School runs 
ten months. At twenty a month for ten months, 
that would be two hundred dollars for one. Add 
thirty dollars for two suits, ten for shoes, three for 
hats, three for underwear, one for handkerchiefs, 
six for books, five for fare to Los Angeles, and five 
for extras. The total for one boy is two hundred 
and sixty-three dollars, and for two boys is five 
hundred and twenty-six dollars. Mamma got a 
newspaper, and looked at prices in the store, and 
she helped us figure the clothes from an advertise- 
ment. ’ ’ 

“We can earn that much money, I know we 


42 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


can,” shouted Jolly, now completely himself. “Oh, 
Bob, you are a brick.” 

Bob grinned. “That’s not all. My father said 
he was sure we could get jobs in Los Angeles tak- 
ing care of peoples’ lawns, and we might earn a 
few dollars a week that way, if we can get enough 
lawns to care for.” 

This was good news, and now Miss Bowen spoke : 
“I have a surprise for you, too. Last night, at a 
meeting of the School Trustees, I asked if Jolly and 
Bob could not be appointed janitors to keep the 
school clean, instead of paying Mr. Dobbin, and 
the board agreed, and will pay you two ten dollars 
a month to do the work if you will do it well, and 
the windows need washing right away.” 

When the time came for reading compositions 
and further suggestions as to earning money, Bob 
almost disgraced himself by reading a story as to 
how he was going to find a gold mine like the min- 
ing men in the district. The story was so funny to 
Jolly, who knew that Bob did not know the sparkle 
of mica on the desert sand from gold, and much 
less would he know where to look for ore in the 
rock, that he was guilty of laughing aloud. 

Bob was much disgusted at such unseemly mirth, 
and, turning to Jolly, said: 

“You can laugh if you like, but I have some 
minerals right here in my pocket.” 


BOB TO THE RESCUE 


43 


Bob pulled some purple, green, pink and slate- 
colored pebbles from his pocket. 

“What do you say to these?’’ questioned Bob, 
elated. 

“I say you don’t even know as much as I 
thought you did,” retorted Jolly. “Those rocks or 
pebbles can be found almost anywhere on the 
desert. They are called igneous rocks, and igneous 
means produced by fire. The mining men around 
here will tell you that this district was once a lot 
hotter than it is now on the hottest day, and that 
there was volcanic action, upheavals in the earth, 
which threw up some of these queer-colored hills, 
and also threw up the lava, which we can find for 
several miles near the mouth of Red Rock canyon. 
The rocks might also have some chemical action 
that, with heat, has made the color.” 

Bob was abashed, and turned to Miss Bowen. 

“I think Jolly is right,” she agreed, “though I 
think he is not very polite when he answers you.” 

Jolly flushed. It was not often that he had to be 
rebuked, and he knew that he had been so anxious 
to show his knowledge that he spoke rudely. 

He turned to Bob, and apologized. But Bob was 
generous, and bore no grudge. 

Sam could hardly wait until Miss Bowen turned 
to him and asked him to read his paper. He was 
on his feet in an instant. His story on how to earn 


44 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


money was very short and to the point. Sam’s 
and Grant’s father had told the boys that when the 
cattle round-up was to be held in April, next 
month, that the four boys could help make the 
corral secure. Jolly and Sam, being the largest 
and understanding the most, could help corral the 
cattle, and ride with the cowboys, if they would do 
as they were told. Bob and Grant could gather 
the wood and keep the fire going which was to heat 
the branding irons. The boys would be paid three 
dollars a day for about five days, meaning sixty 
dollars. Sam’s father also held out the hope of 
this being raised to four dollars a day if the boys 
could make themselves very useful. 

This paper of Sam’s roused as much excitement 
among the members of the Sidewinder Club as 
Jolly’s suggestions had. He sat down with a 
fiushed face of happiness as he saw his comrades 
and teacher look at him approvingly. 

There was now but one article to read, and it 
was Grant’s. 

“If any of you fellows laugh at my story,” be- 
gan Grant, threateningly eying Jolly, “I’ll punch 
your heads.” 

Jolly rubbed his head, as if in advance, and tried 
to look very meek. 

Miss Bowen laughed to herself, though she kept 
outwardly calm, and awaited the paper which was 
to cause amusement. 


BOB TO THE RESCUE 


45 


Grant’s story was as follows: 

“We fellows of the Sidewinder Club mean to 
make money, and, like Benjamin Franklin did 
things when he meant to, so will we. 

“I suggest that we fellows round up all the old 
burros we can find on the desert that prospectors 
have left to stray. We will advertise them in the 
Mojave paper for thirty days, and if no one claims 
them they will be ours, because my Pa said so. Then 
we fellows will drive our burros to Los Angeles 
and sell them for ten dollars or more apiece, and if 
we have eight burros we will get eighty dollars. 
My Pa said he’d furnish the eats for us when we 
drove them down, and it would take us about eight 
days, maybe. We could camp along the road, and 
have fun.” 

This idea met with an impressive silence, while 
the boys were thinking it over. Then Bob spoke : 

“Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it. Jolly?” 

Jolly nodded. He was almost bursting with this 
thrilling idea. What an adventure it would be to 
drive the burros over the desert and mountains to 
Los Angeles, a distance of about one hundred and 
twenty-five miles! How wonderful it would be to 
pack the burros with bedding and beans and pan- 
cake flour and a frying pan, and get meals over a 
bonfire ! How wonderful it would be to spread 
blankets at night, and sleep beneath the stars, with 


46 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


Keeno to watch the browsing burros, while he and 
his companions slept! Jolly turned almost dizzy. 
He thought Grant had a most marvelous brain to 
think of such a plan. Why didn’t he think of it 
himself? He hardly heard Miss Bowen when she 
told him to study his history. Surely he was glad 
he was a boy, and glad he was alive. 

It was not until the boys were going home from 
school that Bob had a chance to tell what he had 
thought of the day before when Jolly had been 
washing and the last bell had rung. 

“We must have a badge to wear to show that we 
belong to the Sidewinder Club,” he told his com- 
panions. “Don’t you think we should wear the 
skin of a snake on our hats for bands, as you men- 
tioned the other day when you killed the rattler, or 
shall we carry the rattles with us?” 

In spite of the fact that Jolly had laughed at 
Bob’s ignorance regarding mines and minerals, he 
had to acknowledge that Bob knew something 
about some things, and one of these things was a 
club. 

“Yes,” he agreed, instantly; “let’s say we can 
either wear the rattles on us somewhere or can 
have a snake skin around our hats. We had better 
allow the choice, for it is not likely we can find 
the sidewinders to kill as soon as we want to, and 


BOB TO THE RESCUE 


47 


we have to work so hard in our spare time that we 
certainly cannot afford the time to look for them/’ 

Sam and Grant agreed to this, and thus the in- 
signia of the club was either the skin or rattles of 
a snake. 

Pour boys trudged through the sand dunes and 
sagebrush happy that afternoon, and determined to 
earn their education. It was agreed that Jolly and 
Bob should pay Sam and Grant the money they 
earned and turned into the club for Jolly’s and 
Bob’s benefit, with four per cent interest, before 
Sam and Grant were ready for the high school, a 
year from September. The fact that the boys might 
earn something in the city was a relief, for six hun- 
dred dollars was certainly a fortune to them. 


48 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


CHAPTER V. 

RED ROCK CANYON. 

Saturday found Sam, Grant and Bob at Jolly’s 
house, ready to plan a day of work somewhere. 
They could all earn dimes washing dishes and 
chopping wood, but when almost six hundred dol- 
lars must be earned the money should roll in by 
dollars, and begin immediately. 

Jolly had a suggestion for his friends: 

“Let’s go to the Red Rock mine this morning, 
and see what is doing. Perhaps we might find some 
odd job.” 

“Where is the Red Rock mine?” inquired Bob. 

“It’s a gold mine in Red Rock canyon where the 
two thousand dollar gold nugget was found by a 
prospector, several years ago.” 

“Oh, Golly!” ejaculated the excitable Bob. “Let’s 
go and start right away. I have my lunch with 
me, for I told Ma I was going to stay away till I 
got a job, I thought. Think we’ll find a nugget, 
too?” 

“No, I don’t think we will; but I know if Little 
Jack Horner can make us useful he will do so, and 


RED ROCK CANYON 


49 


who knows but we might earn about five dollars a 
day!” Jolly was hopeful. 

Jolly had been up before daylight, and had 
sawed his mother’s wood, and packed his own 
lunch after breakfast, and he had just finished 
when his three fellow club members had arrived, 
with their lunches, and all their home tasks com- 
pleted. 

It was quicker to ride than walk, as the canyon 
was a distance of about four or five miles. With 
the help of Sam and Grant, and with Bob watching 
eagerly in an effort to learn. Jolly harnessed his 
father’s horse to a spring cart. 

The boys were soon rattling away to Red Rock 
canyon. Bob thought he had never seen any place 
as beautiful as the desert. The road was merely a 
wagon track winding through the sagebrush and 
cacti. The air was very pure to breathe, and, ex- 
cept for the noise made by the travelers, not a 
sound could be heard. The sun shone hot from 
the cloudless, deep blue sky, and the absence of 
clouds over Jawbone canyon promised a perfect 
day. The miles of flat gray brush were left be- 
hind, and the boys approached sand dunes, rolling 
hills backed by barer and larger hills, which were 
sharp and hungry looking, and down which were 
deep crevices washed by water during rain, but 
now white and hot and dry. 


50 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


The horse had heavy pulling at the entrance to 
the canyon, for the sand was deep, despite the fact 
that men had pulled up salt weed and sagebrush, 
with other growths, and thrown over the dry wash, 
and the wagon sunk a slight depth in the gravelly 
ground. A trickle of water ran through the gravel 
bed farther on. 

Bob drew his breath half in fright as the walls 
of the canyon seemed to grow more heavy and 
dark. They towered over the canyon, some peaks 
as sharp as knives, and great, bare bowlders hung 
perilously on the sides of the hills. Bob had seen 
wooded canyons, with streams of water rushing 
merrily down and grass and ferns, but never had he 
seen such a gaunt, threatening place as this, and 
yet it was so extraordinary he feasted, his eyes in 
wonder and silence until a turn in the road brought 
the boys in the main part of the canyon. Then Bob 
gave a squeal of surprise and of awe. 

On both sides of the road the canyon sides be- 
came more jagged, and were streaked with uneven 
layers of brilliant red and gray. The mountains 
bulged towards each other, and retreated, leaving 
wind-sheltered nooks. Like old castles, the gray- 
pillared, red-streaked giant walls reached upward, 
and were crowned with an uneven mass of dull 
brown, granulated masses of lava and earth. 

Jolly stopped the horse, and the boys clambered 
out of the cart. 


RED ROCK CANYON 


51 


“See that?” asked Jolly, pointing to the right, 
farther up the sides of the canyon. “That is called 
‘The Lady and the Organ,’ and this canyon is said 
to be a minature of the Grand Canyon in Arizona 
and Colorado, though the Grand Canyon is hun- 
dreds of times larger. You have read of it and its 
coloring, haven’t you? Our geography has pictures 
of it.” 

Bob nodded, and looked at “The Lady and the 
Organ.” Standing below in the river bottom, he 
saw in bold relief against the sky a gray silhouette 
profile, larger than life size, of a woman seated at 
an organ in the cliffs. Nature had weathered the 
materials and proved an excellent sculptor. The 
organ pipes of gray were perfect, as was the silent, 
composed figure of the woman sitting in rapt atti- 
tude before the instrument. Not a sign of growth 
was on this marvelous architecture. 

The boys climbed to the summit of the canyon, 
which was a long climb, and it took all their breath 
without talking. Reaching the top. Bob saw an 
enchanting view. At one side was Fremont valley, 
from whence he and his companions had just come. 
It was the sage-flecked desert checkered with home- 
steads, but not guilty of the growth of tall green. 
A few mounds rose suddenly out of the ground, 
among them Castle Rock. The dry salt lake at the 
foot of the eastern mountains shone and sparkled 


52 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


like diamonds in the sun, and looked like fairyland. 
The boys turned their backs on the desert view and 
looked. Mountains of every conceivable size, shape 
and color rose in many layers, one higher than the 
other, and meeting the sky line colored almost as 
blue as the sky. The mountains were gray, brown, 
blue, lavender and purple, 'according to the dis- 
tance and according to the dust or mist in the air, 
which was heavier over the higher mountains, per- 
haps a hundred miles away. Mountains and sky 
was the entire view. 

Bob was too astonished to speak. He had never 
dreamed of such grandeur, much less seen it. He 
had read of the beauties of nature, but, living in a 
city all of his life, except to go to the beach or 
nearby mountains for the summer, he had never 
really seen a sight that moved him. He felt as if 
he were alive for the first time. His loyalty and 
love of the desert — this land of beauteous color 
that could show so many scenes — was nurtured, and 
it grew so strong that he never forgot the desert, 
and when he was a man he truly did find a mine 
in the desert hills, and was wealthy. 

Jolly, Sam and Grant were also true lovers of the 
desert, and it was with gratification that they saw 
that Bob had it in him to see the wonders of what 
is called by those who do not seem to know, ‘Hhe 
Land That God Forgot.’’ He might have forgotten 


RED ROCK CANYON 


53 


the water, but that is all, and this lack is compen- 
sated many times over in the vast mineral resources 
in the desert hills, which have scarcely been 
touched, though thousands of men have made their 
fortunes. In beauty there is no land that can com- 
pare with the desert. This is what these four boys 
felt, and it was a bond between them. 

“Look,” said Jolly. He pointed to a tiny figure, 
about the size of a fly, walking far in the bed of 
the canyon beneath. “That is Little Jack Horner. 
We will go down and talk to him, and ask for a 
job.” 

The four began their risky descent, with the 
crumbling earth and rolling rock and slippery, bare 
bowlders, making their steps uncertain, as they 
tried to make haste. 



/ 


54 COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


CHAPTER VI. 

GOLD MINING ON THE DESERT. 

Little Jack Horner gave the boys a merry greet- 
ing, for he was fond of them, and boys, are quick, 
like dogs, to know who likes them and who will 
treat them well. Little Jack Horner was, like 
many of the desert men, a mining man when occa- 
sion demanded, or a cattle man if necessary. He 
could also dig a well, build a house, and turn his 
hand to anything useful while on the desert. In 
the city he was almost lost. 

Jack Horner laughed. 

‘ ‘ I know what you fellows want ! ’ * 

“We want work,” answered Jolly, in his custom- 
ary frank manner. 

“Sure,” Jack Horner grinned, “and, what’s 
more, you are just in the nick of time. I have 
just found that the water is leaking out of a gopher 
hole, where the cement seemed to have been weak, 
and I need some one to fix it up. I know you can. 
Jolly, and the rest of you kids can get a pile of 
wood ready that will keep the cook supplied until 
next Saturday, when you might come again if you 


GOLD MINING ON THE DESERT 


55 


don’t get any other job. I’ll pay you each a dollar 
for the rest of your day, which is only four more 
hours as we count it here. Next week we’ll call it 
two dollars if you fill the bill.” 

The four did not need a second invitation to 
work, and felt uneasy at the delay, while Jack 
Horner was telling them that he had heard of the 
Sidewinder Club, as had every one in the district 
by this time. He said all were determined to do 
what they could to furnish work with pay for the 
boys. This proved good news to the lads, and they 
went to work with a will. 

At lunch time, when the men gathered together 
for their hour, Bob was all anxiety to gain infor- 
mation on what was going on and where the gold 
was coming from. 

The boys gathered around Jack Horner when 
Bob asked his first question, and Jack Horner told 
them of the different ways of mining and finding 
gold in the region. 

‘‘Gold is usually found in quartz rock,” said 
Jack Horner, picking up a sample and showing the 
boys the dull yellow specks in the rock. “Some- 
times the gold is washed out of rock by rain and 
rushes of water, and it trickles into the ravines and 
canyons below in fine particles usually. This gold 
is called placer gold, and the method of getting it 
is called placer mining. 


56 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


“It was placer mining that occupied the men 
around Sutter’s place farther north, on the Sacra- 
mento river, in the gold rush to California in ’49. 
The gold was trickling in the creeks, as it often is 
in such cases, and to get it out the miners scoop up 
a pan of the earth and water, and shake it around 
with a circling motion. This sends the gold to the 
bottom, because it is the heaviest, and the water 
and dirt are on top. Next the dirt and water are 
carefully taken off, and the process is repeated 
until the fine gold dust is left glittering in the 
bottom of the pan. This dust is dried, put in bot- 
tles or canvas bags. In many mining camps it is 
used for money, just as it is, and is weighed out 
like flour and sugar, except in smaller quantities, of 
course. ’ ’ 

Though Jolly knew something of mining from 
hearing men talk and asking questions, he had 
never understood some of these facts before. 

“They haven’t any water on the desert to do 
that way, have they?” asked Jolly. 

“No,” replied Jack Horner; “that is just what 
I was coming to. It was necessary to work the 
desert diggings without water, and so the new 
method is called dry washing. Dry washing origi- 
nated on this desert, I understand. This necessi- 
tates what is called a wind separator, which re- 
sembles a grain separator. When the gold is in the 


•GOLD MINING ON THE DESERT 


57 


gravel it has to be separated, and on the desert, in 
the early days, and in many places still, the gravel 
is placed so that the wind, created by bellows, 
blowing through a riffle board in a machine, blows 
the lighter earth and gravel away and leaves the 
gold just as in the case of the water, the heavy 
gold remaining.” 

“You don’t do that way here, do you?” asked 
Bob, looking at the machinery and the great pond 
of water which the men had built and lined with 
cement. 

“Ours is sluice-box work and hydraulic mining. 
Water is needed in great quantities in this method. 
The water must come from a height or from a 
pressure pump, so it will have force in abundance. 
Dirt is washed down by heavy pressure of water 
into sluice-boxes. As the material rushes down, the 
gold is caught in cross riffles in the bottom of the 
sluice-box. Then the water is turned off, and the 
gold is taken from the sluice-box and the work re- 
peated.” 

“How do they get the gold at the Yellow Aster 
mine?” asked Jolly. “I have been through that 
mine, and seen the mill, and heard all the noise of 
the machinery, but I don’t see that it is a way you 
have mentioned.” 

“The gold is gotten from the Yellow Aster by 
means of the quartz method,” answered Jack 


58 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


Horner. “Does this kid know anything about the 
Yellow Aster gold mine?” he asked, turning to 
Bob. 

Bob nodded his head no. “I wish you’d tell me 
though, before you tell how they get the ore out, 
so that I’ll understand.” 

“The Yellow Aster mine is a gold mine at Rands- 
burg, about thirty miles northeast of here. The 
discovery of the mine in those desert hills meant 
the founding of Randsburg, which is named after a 
rich mining district in Africa. The gold mine is 
named after the pretty yellow asters which grow 
so profusely on the desert in the springtime. The 
story of the discovery of gold there, is a great 
story, and Lean Jim, who has lived here longer 
than any of us, could tell you of it. He was the 
first person to come to this part of the desert to 
live!” 

“Perhaps Bob will meet Lean Jim pretty soon,” 
suggested Grant. 

Jack Horner nodded and continued: “The Yel- 
low Aster gold mine was one of the heaviest gold 
producers in the West when it was first producing. 
It was what was called a ‘glory hole,’ and it was 
really a mountain of low grade ore. Owing to the 
price of gold being the same, and the increase in 
cost being about two to one, after the war it low- 
ered the production of gold because there is not 
enough profit in it. 


GOLD MINING ON THE DESERT 


59 


“The gold-bearing quartz is dug from the moun- 
tains in tunnels and shafts. Dynamite is used to 
blow out large cavities, and air drills are used 
for drilling holes and for giving aid to the men 
working hundreds of feet below the surface of the 
ground. The rock is shoveled into small trucks, 
and taken to the stamp mill, where it is pulverized, 
or ground to powder. It is the heavy stamps that 
make the noise that Jolly spoke about. The pow- 
dered material is washed by water over large slop- 
ing silver plates, which are covered with a coat of 
quicksilver. The gold, being washed down with 
the ground rock, sticks to the quicksilver, which 
acts as a magnet, and the remaining material is 
washed on down. 

“Next the plates with the gold clinging to it are 
removed. A rubber block is used to scrape the 
gold off the plate, but the quicksilver comes, too. 
The two together are called amalgam. The amal- 
gam looks like paste. It is now necessary to sepa- 
rate the gold and quicksilver. 

“A retort is used for the separating process. A 
retort is something like a distillery. It is a bowl 
with a pipe to it. The pipe extends into another 
bowl, wth water for cooling purposes. A fire 
under the retort does not melt the gold, but dis- 
solves the quicksilver, which separates itself from 
the gold by coming off in fumes. These fumes pass 


60 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


through the pipe and into the other container, 
where they are cooled by the water, and so con- 
densed into quicksilver once more. 

“The gold is then melted and poured into bricks. 
These bricks are worth from fifty to ten thousand 
dollars, depending upon how large they are. The 
gold is then sent to the mint.’’ 

The boys were fascinated with this gold mine 
talk, particularly Bob. 

“I’m going to be a mining man,” said Bob, “and 
I can hardly wait. But you did not mention gold 
nuggets. What are they?” 

“They are lumps of gold found by themselves, 
instead of being in dust or in quartz rock. They 
are found with placer gold. Some are worth a few 
dollars, and some a great many dollars. Gold is 
found in ledges in which there are rich and poor 
places. When a large amount of gold is found solid 
in the rock it is called a pocket. Sometimes pros- 
pectors are called pocket hunters.” 

“What is a ‘blow out’?” asked Jolly. 

“A blow out is where the ore has been blown up 
by volcanic action of the earth into a cavity. Blow- 
outs, according to their size, of course, are general- 
ly rich, but they may give out at any time, while 
a ledge may be followed for a long time, and is 
more sure. Another kind of a deposit is a chimney 
or pipe. This is where the ore has filled in a hole 


GOLD MINING ON THE DESERT 


61 


the shape of a chimney, and does not follow a 
ledge.” 

“Does silver run like goldT’ asked Sam. 

‘ ‘ Silver runs in ledges of limestone or schist, very 
often, and sometimes in chimneys and blow outs. 
But here, you fellows; I thought you came to work 
for me today. It is time that we all got busy.” 

Once more the boys went about the duties that 
had been assigned to them, and Bob was anticipat- 
ing the time when he would be a man and could 
have a mine of his own. 

At the close of the day each had earned his dol- 
lar, and just as the lads were driving out of the 
canyon a machine approached them, and a tall, 
thin man waved his hat and called to them. 

“Oh, stop him!” cried Grant. “It’s Lean Jim, 
and we wanted Bob to meet him.” 

So it was that Bob met Lean Jim, the first settler 
in this portion of the Mojave desert. Lean Jim 
asked the boys to come to his house to dinner the 
next day, Sunday, and the boys accepted with glee, 
for that meant the most pleasant kind of a day. 


62 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


CHAPTER VII. 

AT THE HOME OF LEAN JIM. 

Bob’s head was full of gold mining the next 
morning, and he was glad when he remembered 
Lean Jim’s invitation to dinner at his house with 
Jolly, Grant and Sam. The gathering place was, as 
usual, at Jolly’s home. Sam and Grant were the 
first to arrive, and they were riding Jinks, who was 
in a high good humor, which he testified by walk- 
ing leisurely along. He seemed to tramp purposely 
on the wild fiowers, which lay as a carpet for his 
feet. 

Jolly had the horse and cart waiting, and by the 
time Bob came every one was anxious to be off. 
The horse started with good will, and the drive was 
as pleasant for a portion of the way as the drive of 
the previous day. But all good things come to an 
end. Red Rock wash as it issues from the hills had 
been passed, and the road wound along at the foot 
of a range of low mountains. 

Bob’s hat blew off. He never could remember 
that whirlwinds or blasts of steady air were likely 
to rise at a moment’s notice. He was out after his 


AT THE HOME OF LEAN JIM 


63 


hat, regardless of where he ran. Suddenly he gave 
a squeal resembling that of the morning a rattle- 
snake threatened his path. Then he sat down, 
howling like a dog, on a sand dune. 

“ Thunderation ! ” exclaimed Sam, somewhat im- 
patiently. “Is he a baby, or what ails that guyV* 

“You’d soon find out, maybe, if you came, but I 
don’t know myself yet what has happened,” an- 
swered Bob, crossly, while he nursed his foot, and 
then began tearing his shoe and stocking off as 
fast as he could. 

Jolly suspected his friend’s trouble. He jumped 
out of the cart, and hurried to Bob. 

“Yes; it’s as I thought,” he exclaimed. “Bob 
got too near one of those blamed things!” 

He was eying a short, very prickly cactus which 
was nestled unobtrusively in the brush. 

“These confounded things, if you go too near, 
shoot out their prickers like a porcupine. They 
do hurt, too, believe me. I’ve had ’em, and forgot 
to warn you.” 

Jolly bent and looked at Bob’s foot. It was red 
and sore, and a few little needles could be seen 
working their way into his foot. 

“They went right through the leather of my 
shoe,” cried Bob, indignantly, “and I didn’t even 
touch the thing!” 

Grant came up with a pin, which was certainly 


64 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


not a sanitary instrument, but the boys soon had 
the uncomfortable little thorns out of the suffering 
boy’s foot. He was able to put on his shoe again, 
and limped but very little as he went to the cart, 
and the four resumed their way. 

Lean Jim’s house was a masterpiece of desert 
architecture. It was composed of the original 
shack which he had built almost thirty years be- 
fore, when he came to the desert by himself. He 
had since rolled down stones from the mountain 
side, and put them together with adobe and cement, 
and the completed building was rambling, unique 
and comfortable. It was at its best in summer, 
when the walls, which were three feet in thickness, 
kept out some of the desert heat. 

Lean Jim’s wife was a good housekeeper, and the 
floor was strewn with bobcat and coyote skins for 
rugs, as well as a brightly colored Navajo Indian 
rug. 

The long, low porch, facing the west, was typi- 
cally Californian. A home-made hammock and 
comfortable chairs occupied one end. At the other 
a broken looking-glass was hung, beneath which 
was a wash bench, with basin and soap on it, and 
a roller towel hung to one side. 

Bob was very much impressed with these ar- 
rangements, and went with the other boys to the 
wash bowl to clean up before dinner. Dinner was 


AT THE HOME OF LEAN JIM 


65 


eaten in the kitchen on a snowy tablecloth, and 
was cooked by Lean Jim’s wife, who was an artist 
in the line of cooking. 

The dinner consisted of hot cornbread, over 
which was home-made butter and honey made by 
the bees from the sagebrush on the desert (sage 
honey is said to be the sweetest and richest honey 
there is), scrambled eggs, bacon, mashed potatoes, 
olives, home-made bread, fresh milk to drink, and, 
lastly, a whipped cream cake and canned quince. 

Bob had not known when he came here that he 
was coming to the home of the only desert rancher 
in the community, but that is where he was, for 
Lean Jim had cows, chickens, pigs, pigeons, as well 
as cats, dogs and horses. Altogether, this was the 
most delightful visit that the boys had ever made, 
they thought. 

After dinner, a walk was enjoyed around the 
ranch, which was on the shore of the dry salt lake. 

“Why do you call your ranch Kane Springs?” 
asked Bob. 

“Because, when I first came here,” Lean Jim 
told him, “there was a plant growing on the edge 
of the lake with long, slim leaves. They were 
coated on the back with a substance like sugar. 
One could take a stalk and shake it, and quantities 
of a dusty, floury sweetness would fall off. It is 
said that the Indians, when they lived here, would 


66 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


come and gather the stalk because they liked the 
sugar.” 

‘‘Did the Indians live near the springs we saw 
over in the valley?” asked Boh. 

“I should say not,” said Lean Jim, quickly. 
“The Indians lived perhaps a mile or so from the 
spring. If they lived near it, they would scare the 
game away, for all the live things on the desert 
must be near the water. Their drinking time was 
the time for the Indians to get them. This was a 
lazy method of hunting, but the desert Indians 
were inclined to be lazy, though they were very 
savage and to be feared by those crossing the 
desert coming to California to settle.” 

Lean Jim crossed his knees and lighted a cigar. 

“Have you ever heard the story of Goler?” 

The boys were eager. No, they had not heard 
Goler ’s story, though, as Jolly said, there was a 
deserted mining camp by that name on the desert 
a few miles to the northeast of Kane Springs, and 
all that now remained to tell the story was a few 
crumbling adobe buildings, in which the coyotes 
sought shelter and the centipedes and scorpions 
made their homes. 


STORY OF GOLER AND DESERT GOLD 67 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE STORY OF GOLER AND DESERT GOLD. 

“My story is a true story,’’ began Lean Jim, 
“and at the end I’ll tell you how I know that it is 
true. All this happened before I came to the 
desert, and you know I was the first person to set- 
tle in these parts. 

“Goler was an emigrant, and crossed the plains 
with a party of two hundred. They drove oxen, 
and had caravans, and had trouble with the In- 
dians, and their story up until the time of their 
reaching Death Valley was about the same as any 
of the others crossing the plains at that time. The 
party had a long and weary trail to follow before 
reaching California, which was* to be their new 
home, and where they expected to make their for- 
tunes. 

“They reached Death Valley, which gets its name 
from the many who have lost their lives in trying 
to cross that desert. It is considered the most ter- 
rible desert in the world, and it is something over 
one hundred miles to the northeast of here. It is 
said the temperature in summer goes to one hun- 


68 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


dred and sixty degrees, and that white men cannot 
live long in the heat. They go crazy or die. iVe 
been there when it was one hundred and thirty 
degrees. 

“This valley is three hundred feet below sea 
level, and is the lowest part of the United States, 
and within fifty miles west of Death Valley, Mount 
Whitney stands 14,500 feet high, and on it the 
snow never melts. The valley is about ten miles 
wide, and is almost free from growth of any kind. 

“Rain is almost unknown here, and the spring 
flowers bloom in January. There are only a few 
of them, and they don’t grow more than an inch 
high, as a rule.” 

“Are there any mines there?” asked Bob, who 
always thought of mines now. 

“Twenty miles west across the valley is Skidoo 
mining camp,” answered Lean Jim, “and there are 
silver mines in the Panamint range west. The sur- 
rounding rnountains are comparatively rich in min- 
eral wealth, but the best known mines of all are 
the borax mines. It was from here that the twenty- 
mule teams hauled borax to Mojave, a distance of 
almost eighty miles.” 

“Gee, I’ve heard of that borax,” cried Sam, in 
surprise, “and I never knew it came from near 
here !” 

“The drivers used to stop at my place for water 


STORY OF iGOLER AND DESERT GOLD 69 


when I first came here, and I knew the men well,” 
Lean Jim told Sam. 

“Well, what made Death Valley, anyway?” 
asked Jolly, who always liked to get to the bottom 
of things. 

“Some say a great glacier plowed it out. Of 
course you have all read in your geography some- 
thing of the action of glaciers on our land, cen- 
turies ago?” 

Jolly nodded. 

“And some say the depression is due to volcanic 
action. However it is, it is a wonderful place, as 
well as a terrible one. There are many graves 
there, but, worse than that, there may be seen the 
bleached bones of persons who have died thirst- 
tortured, and wandered for days without water, 
and seeing mirages. 

“Well, to get back to Goler. It was this terrible 
place that proved too much for Goler ’s party of 
people. They were without water, and could not 
reach the end of the burning sands. Indians saw 
them from afar, attacked them, and murdered all 
but a few of them. Those who escaped were meet- 
ing as terrible a fate, for they were without food 
or water, lost on the desert. 

“Among those to escape was Goler. He had with 
him his gun, and he reached the edge of the valley, 
came to the mountains, and found enough to sup- 


70 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


port his failing strength. Finally, he found himself 
on this desert, the Mojave desert. He saw the 
same dry salt lake whose borders we are on now, 
and he might have been on this very ground. As 
he wandered on one day, he discovered a glittering 
substance which he was sure was gold. He took a 
sample, and tried to remember just where he was 
by marking the place. 

‘Ht was after many days of terrible suffering 
that Goler at last reached Los Angeles. There he 
told of his discovery of gold on the desert, and a 
party was formed to go and hunt for the gold. 
None was found, and the men thought that Goler 
must be dreaming, though he had his sample to 
prove his assertion. 

“Gold was not found on the desert until it was 
discovered in Last Chance canyon, right up there,” 
said Lean Jim, pointing over the hill to the north. 
“I was living here when it was found. Next, gold 
was found in Red Rock, at Black Mountain, and 
Randsburg, and at another place on the desert, and 
this place was called Goler, because it was he who 
first thought gold was here, and had found a sam- 
ple.” 

“You said you’d tell us how you know your 
story is true,” reminded Grant, when Lean Jim 
stopped for a breath. 

“Yes,” Lean Jim nodded; “this winter one of the 


STORY OR GOLER AND DESERT GOLD 71 


cowboys found an old Spencer repeating rifle, half 
buried under a sand dune, while he was riding the 
range. It was made in Boston in 1865, according to 
its marking. The magazine is located in its stock, 
and when it was found it contained three cartridges, 
with one in the barrel. It was thought that Goler 
marked the place he found the gold with this rifle, 
or else that he lost it when the Indians were after 
him. However that is, I understand that the men 
were so angry with him when they could not find 
the gold that they would, have hanged Goler if he 
had not gotten out of their way. So, you see some 
w^hite men are as dangerous as Indians, after all.” 

‘‘Now, I have a surprise for you.” Lean Jim’s 
eyes were twinkling. 

The boys leaned forward expectantly. 

“After you left the Red Rock mine, yesterday. 
Little Jack Horner told me that you boys w^ere try- 
ing to earn money to go to school. I have a plan 
that will be of some help both to you and to me.” 

If happiness could bring reward to Lean Jim, the 
sight of the four lads’ faces was indeed a reward 
while he unfolded a thrilling idea. 

“When gold was being mined in Goler, Garlock, 
Red Rock, Randsburg and other camps around 
here, I ran the only store this side of Mojave where 
supplies could be bought. I sold everything from 
whisky to shoes and beans and trousers. The 


72 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


miners could not pay me with money, but they 
came to the store with bottles of gold in their 
pockets, and we would weigh the gold dust, and 
use it for money. The men were careless with their 
gold dust, and the cracks of my floor were wide. 
Often much of the dust fell through the floor un- 
noticed. ’ ’ 

Lean Jim’s eyes w*ere twinkling. “I remember 
the Christmas of ’93, when a group of miners came 
to the store for a drink. I only had three cases of 
whisky left, and they ordered it all. They kept 
the amount of gold they had hidden, and were very 
secret about it, and it roused my curiosity. They 
kept drinking, and ordering more and more, ap.d 
were getting very drunk and merry. As they grew 
more drunk they became careless, and pulled bot- 
tles of gold from their pockets and flourished it 
around. The gold nuggets fell out, and glittered 
on the floor of my dusty cabin like yellow, winking 
eyes. I laughed as I watched the men, and while 
the nuggets and gold dust were rolling and flying 
around, I grabbed my broom. 'Let me sweep this 
up,’ I cried, and, while the men were shouting and 
hollering and crying, I swept the loose gold down 
the cracks of my floor!” 

The four listeners were laughing at Lean Jim as 
he seized an imaginary broom and swept rolling 
nuggets into the cracks. 


STORY OF GOLER AND DESERT GOLD 73 


Now, Lean Jim became more serious. “You kids 
need money for a good purpose,” he said, solemnly. 
“You can have that dust and the nuggets that are 
under my floor, for the shack next to this room is 
now just as it was. We will tear up the floor and 
get them now.” 

Lean Jim stood up and eyed the four members 
of the Sidewinder Club. His look was kind, and 
his eyes met the grateful, joyous eyes of four am- 
bitious boys overjoyed with the prospect before 
them. 

“It will have to be, 'The better the day the bet- 
ter the deed,’ ” said Lean Jim, “for neither you nor 
I have time during the week for this job, and we 
better get it done.” He went for his hammer, 
called to his wife what plan was on foot, and the 
boys helped Mrs. Jim move what furniture there 
was in the room out of the way. 

The next three hours were occupied in hard 
work. When the boards were removed, one by one, 
sure enough, there lay some small gold nuggets and 
gold dust with a slight layer of dust accumulated 
on the top since Lean Jim had covered his cracks 
with other boards. 

The boys carefully put the treasures in a glass 
bottle given to them by Mrs. Jim, when they had 
washed the gold, as though they were panning it 
to remove the dirt, under Lean Jim’s direction. 


74 


COMRADES OP THE DESERT 


“About how much is that worth?” asked Jolly, 
holding the bottle up. 

“It’s fifty dollars, anyway,” Lean Jim answered. 

There was a happy sigh of delight from all the 
boys but Jolly, and he could not contain his feel- 
ings, but burst into a yell which made Lean Jim 
and Mrs. Jim laugh kindly. 

It was almost dark by the time the triumphant, 
hard workers sat down to supper. While they were 
eating there was a knock on the door, and a man 
called “Dusty” strode into the room. His face was 
bright, and he sat down to eat immediately upon 
being invited. 

Dusty told of a rich strike he thought he had 
made that day. 

“It’s over near Red Rock,” Dusty told the 
diners. “I had suspected a gold ledge on that 
ground, and today went over to find it out. Sure 
enough,” he pulled a piece of quartz rock from 
his pocket and handed it to Jim, “this is a sample 
of what I found. I located a claim.” 

“Did you build all of your monuments?” ques- 
tioned Lean Jim. 

“No; it was getting dark, and I just built the 
location monument. I did measure out my six 
hundred by fifteen hundred feet allowed, to see 
how much of a ledge I’d get, but that was all, be- 
cause it was getting dark, and I wanted to reach 


STORY OF GOLER AND DESERT GOLD 75 


here before then, and stay the night if you can 
make room for me.’’ 

Mrs. Jim nodded her welcome. “We’ve always 
room in the nigger heaven,” meaning upstairs, 
“which we seldom use,” she replied. 

“The moon will soon be up,” said Lean Jim to 
the boys, as he helped them to harness their horse 
preparatory to their driving home. “There is noth- 
ing to be afraid of, and you can leave the gold for 
me to send away for the cash if you wish.” 

The boys were not afraid, but were glad to leave 
the gold in the hands of Lean Jim. 

Soon the moon arose bright and clear over the 
bare hills to the east, and, getting into the cart, 
four tired but happy boys started on their home- 
ward trip. 


76 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT . 


CHAPTER IX. 

SAVING THE CLAIM. 

It is probable that there is no place on earth that 
can eqnal the silent beauty of a desert night when 
the wind is not blowing. The boys felt the perfect 
charm as the horse trotted briskly towards home. 
The desert stretched before them, bathed in moon- 
light shadows of the sage and weird, cruel arms of 
the cactus stretched outwards. The road was a 
silver trail, and the hills in the distance stood out 
boldly and outlined clear against the depth of the 
velvet sky. The moon rode the heavens so brightly 
that she paled the purple of the sky, and the steel 
points of the multitudinous stars which studded, 
bright-eyed, the soft sky-mat of atmosphere, which 
formed their background. 

The moonlight was so clear that, as Jolly held 
the whip in his hand, he could read the name of 
the manufacturer on the handle, for it was new and 
in use for the first time. He called Bob’s attention 
to this, knowing that Bob was always full of won- 
der at the desert and ready to absorb its marvels. 


SAVING THE CLAIM 


77 


The cart was now nearing Red Rock wash when 
Bob spoke of what was on his mind: 

“Jolly, I’d like to see Dnsty’s mining claim and 
his location monument. I’d like to see it tonight, 
for we won’t have time tomorrow after school, 
what with our janitor work and the hour we prom- 
ised Mr. Brown we’d dig post holes.” 

While Jolly was considering this proposition, 
Sam and Grant heartily seconded the motion. 

“Let’s go,” urged Sam. “It’s not far out of our 
road, and we’ll have time now; we won’t for an- 
other week, if we wait.” 

The Father Sidewinder wanted to see the claim 
and the gold ledge for himself, so this was suffi- 
cient to make him turn the horse’s head to the 
north on reaching the end of the wash. 

“We can’t drive clear up to the claim,” an- 
nounced Jolly, in a few moments. “We’re not on 
a road now, and it’s uphill besides. I think it will 
be easier to hobble the horse and get over there 
ourselves. It’s just over that knoll, I believe, from 
what Dusty said.” 

The boys clambered out of the cart, and Jolly 
took a rope and tied it around the front feet of the 
horse, as there was nothing to which to tie him. 
This would fix him so he could not go far if he 
tried. 

There was no talking as the four climbed the 


78 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT » 


knoll, and then began their descent through the 
brush, which was thick here. 

When they were almost at the foot of the knoll 
they saw something moving in the moonlight. They 
were in the shadow, as the moon had not risen high 
enough to be in the zenith. 

Bob clutched Jolly nervously, and the four boys 
stooped and crouched simultaneously in the brush. 

“Hush!” whispered Jolly, warningly, but his 
own heart was in his throat. He could feel the 
blood pounding in his head. The thing was not a 
coyote; it couldn’t be that shape! 

Then the crouching form in the moonlight 
straightened up. It was a man! He was standing 
with a paper in his hand. 

Jolly watched him. He knew now that the man 
was at Dusty’s location monument, and that he had 
taken the location notice from the tin can which 
had been hidden in the monument, as was custom- 
ary, so the wind would not blow it away. 

What could it mean? The boys were silent, wait- 
ing the next move of the man they watched. They 
saw him put the notice in the can again and the 
can in his pocket. 

Jolly felt his blood turn hot. “That’s not fair,” 
he whispered; “the man’s in mischief!” 

The man began lifting down the stones from the 


SAVING THE CLAIM 


79 


location monument, and then strode about, count- 
ing his steps. 

‘ ‘ Holy smoke ! He ’s jumping Dusty ’s mining 
claim,” breathed Jolly in Sam’s ear. Grant and 
Bob heard the whisper, and took in the dire por- 
tent. 

“What shall we do?” whispered Bob, his blood 
tingling with excitement. 

“Get the goods on him!” hissed Jolly. “Listen, 
fellows! I’ll take one of you with me, and we’ll 
take the horse, unharness him, and ride bareback 
like the devil, and get Dusty at Lean Jim’s place. 
The other two must stay here and watch the guy. 
Watch what he does, and if he leaves follow him, 
and be ready to report to us where he goes, when 
he has finished his job. Can you do it?” 

Three heads nodded emphatically. The boys 
were alive to the danger they were in, for they 
could see the glitter of a gun from the rear pocket 
on the man’s trousers as he turned in the moon- 
light. They had before them the biggest job of 
their lives. 

“Who’ll go with me?” asked Jolly. 

There were three volunteers. Then Jolly changed 
his mind. 

“One can ride better than two when he has to 
fly like I will. Sam, you come and help me unhar- 
ness, and then come back and stay here with these 


80 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


kids, and I’ll do the riding, and be back with Dusty 
in half an hour.” 

This did seem the most practical plan, and with- 
out another word Jolly and Sam were creeping 
swiftly, like Indians, through the sagebrush, up the 
shadowed slope, over the crest, and down to where 
the hobbled horse stood patiently waiting. 

Breathless, Jolly and Sam worked, and soon Jolly 
was on the horse’s back, with the rope around the 
horse’s nose with which to control him. He threw 
his hat under the bush to be found later, and, kick- 
ing the ribs of his steed and bending low as it 
started off in a startled gallop, he was soon out of 
sight up the silvery trail. 

Sam felt none too happy as he stood in the moon- 
light alone on the desert. He was frightened at 
the shadows, frightened at what was happening, 
and it took all his courage to turn into the sage- 
brush again, and creep like a robber over the hill, 
down the shadowed slope to two lads as frightened, 
but as determined as himself. 

The claim jumper was busy. He had moved and 
rebuilt Dusty’s location monument farther to the 
north. He was now building a monument where the 
former one had stood. He wrote his location notice 
there in the light of the great moon which was look- 
ing down on his evil deed. When that was com- 
pleted he appeared restless and undecided. The 


SAVINO THE CLAIM 


81 


three boys in the brush watched with panting 
breath. They were ready to follow when necessary, 
but hoped that the man would make no such move 
before Dusty and Jolly should return. 

Meanwhile, Jolly was covering the ground with 
rapidity. His horse caught the excitement of the 
moment, and galloped without much urging down 
the winding road. Now and then he started in 
affright when he fancied he heard something in the 
brush, and once a coyote came out from the sage 
and looked wonderingly at the invasion of his quiet 
land. The horse snorted and reared, and then ran 
more swiftly than before. Jolly was almost thrown, 
but he was a good rider, and was prepared for sur- 
prises. 

The sound of galloping hoofs brought Lean Jim 
and Dusty to the door as he rounded the hill be- 
neath which the back of Jim’s house was built. 

“Get a horse and come!” cried Jolly. “A man 
is jumping your claim at Red Rock, for we saw 
him lift away the monument ! ’ ’ 

Desert people are always expectant, on the alert 
for something to happen, for dull indeed is the 
mining community where nothing is doing. 

Without further question. Lean Jim ran to the 
corral, and led forth two horses, and Jolly finished 
his tale to Dusty. 

The men mounted. With Dusty in the lead, there 


82 


COMRADES OP THE DESERT 


were soon three horses raising a trail of dust along 
the road; three flying flgures riding as for life 
towards the mouth of Red Rock canyon. 

Jolly kept his pace with the men. It was scarce- 
ly flfteen minues since they had left the house that 
they had covered the miles. 

The men left Jolly to hobble the horses, and 
started on over the hills, creeping swiftly like giant 
lizards over the gray sand and sage. 

With a sigh of relief, it was Sam who flrst spot- 
ted the men coming. 

Jolly has brought them,’’ he whispered to his 
companions, and soon the men were crouching in 
the sage with them. 


THE BIG FIGHT 


83 


CHAPTER X. 

THE BIG FIGHT. 

Dusty rapidly planned the course of action, as 
he stooped in the brush with Lean Jim and the 
four boys. He issued his instructions, quickly, 
softly, and they were much to the point. 

“You four kids creep nearer as we do when I 
give the signal. These are not loaded.’’ He handed 
a revolver to each of the boys, for Mrs. Jim had 
looted “nigger heaven” while the men were pre- 
paring to leave for the scene of action, and had 
found the old firearms. “Jolly, you and Sam cross 
to the opposite side, keeping low in the brush. You 
other two kids stay on this side. When I call out 
to you, ‘Do not fire!’ stand up so the claim jumper 
can see you, and point your revolvers at him from 
the points in which you will be stationed. We will 
have him buffaloed then, while I give him his les- 
son.” 

Jolly and Sam, at a look from Dusty, began their 
crawling to the other side of the claim, creeping 
low in the growth of brush. Grant and Bob looked 
at one another in grave bravado. Not for the 


84 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


world would they have even let one another know 
the feelings of excitement intermingled with fear 
that were shooting through their breasts. 

The claim jumper had paced his six hundred 
steps, and was building his monument at one of the 
far corners. Little did he guess that the man he 
was wronging was in the brush at his right hand 
and pulling his body over the sand to the shelter 
of a bowlder. 

Jolly was nearest to the man. The claim jumper 
completed his monument, and his stones were piled 
neatly, the regulation four-boot base and four feet 
in height. His next problem was to find rocks to 
build the remaining cornerstones. 

Just as his back was turned, he felt in his back 
pocket for his handkerchief, when a voice, clear- 
cut, and stern and heavy rang across the night air, 
and Jolly hardly recognized Dusty’s voice. 

“Hands up!” he shouted, and the next second 
he was standing before the claim jumper, with the 
mouth of his revolver poked in the man's face. 

Now, claim jumpers have a lot of nerve. They 
have to have, or they would not undertake such a 
job, and, instead of taking his handkerchief from 
his pocket, as he had evidently planned, he snatched 
his six-shooter and leveled it in the face of Dusty. 

There was a breathless instant, when the two 
men stood facing one another, neither shooting. All 


THE BIG FIGHT 


85 


of a sudden the claim jumper was felled to the 
ground by a power in the rear. His gun fell some 
feet from him. He rolled over in the sand, and 
Dusty leaped upon him. 

That power from behind was Jolly. He was in the 
brush nearest the two men. He could almost touch 
them. As he saw the desperado pull his gun from 
his pocket with a flash, without a moment’s hesi- 
tation for his own safety, but remembering only 
that the gun might explode in Dusty’s brain. Jolly 
was out of the brush in a twinkle. He stuck his 
foot with force under the knees of the claim jump- 
er, and this trick felled him, left him sprawling. 

The command came from Dusty to the four boys, 
“Do not Are! I’ll flx him!” and, to the dismay of 
the claim jumper, who thought he could easily 
overpower Dusty, he saw four forms in the brush 
stand erect, with guns leveled at him, and Lean 
Jim approaching with a fifth. 

The game was over. He had been caught claim 
jumping, and it was a penitentiary offense! If 
only he had shot as he stood facing Dusty ! 

Dusty and the claim jumper struggled in the 
sand in a fight that terrified Bob, but he- stood up- 
right, with his empty revolver leveled at the man. 

Over and over the men rolled. There was a chok- 
ing cry as Dusty fell over on his face. In an in- 
stant Lean Jim was there. He tore the claim 


86 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


jumper by the neck from Dusty, and called to Jolly 
to come and assist. To the others he yelled: 

“Fire if he tries to escape!” 

The bluff worked. The cowed ruffian stood with 
the blood dripping from his head into the sand, in 
silence. Lean Jim stood over him with his gun, 
while Jolly turned Dusty over so he could get air. 

“He’s just lost his wind, I think,” said Lean 
Jim. “Loosen his belt, and rub him gently. See 
if that will help.” 

Jolly did as he was told, and with a gasp Dusty 
came to his senses. 

All eyes were on Dusty, and the claim jumper, 
seeing that Jolly was a boy, and that those in the 
distance looked like boys also, made up liis mind 
to take a chance on their aim. He made another 
dash for freedom by wrenching the revolver hand 
of Lean Jim and spraining it, but Lean Jim held 
on. There was another scramble in the dust, and 
the claim jumper shot out his big fist and hit Jolly 
on the head. He fell unconscious to the ground. 

Emboldened by the fact that the boys in the 
brush did not fire, but stood like statues in the 
moonlight, the claim jumper twisted Lean Jim’s 
sprained hand as he tried to grasp his revolver in 
his left. In less time than it takes to tell he had 
the revolver, and in a fiash of fire and a sudden 
report of the gun the three boys in the brush saw 
Lean Jim fall to the ground in a heap. 


THE BIG FIGHT 


87 


The claim jumper was now making for the brush, 
with his smoking revolver turned on the melee of 
boys and men he had left behind. But he had 
figured without Dusty, for the shot had brought 
him to his senses. He saw the glitter of a gun 
lying within reach of his hand, and without getting 
up he fired a shot at the fleeing man. It blew his 
hat off. 

The claim jumper shot wildly back at random. 
Four bullets skidded harmlessly past the men and 
boys, and then, with a cry of baffled rage, he made 
for the brush, dropping his gun in his haste, which 
was useless without shells. 

“Give chase, kids!” ordered Lean Jim, and Bob, 
Sam and Grant leaped from the brush in a frenzy, 
as they remembered Jolly lying senseless in the 
sand, with Lean Jim beside him. 

Dusty was in the lead. He had his gun ready, 
but he did not want to shoot if he could avoid it. 
He was bearing down on his man, and close behind 
him came the three boys. Sam shot past him, and 
was going to try to trip him, as he and Jolly had 
learned to do, wfflen Dusty called: 

“Halt, or I shoot!” 

The claim jumper came to a stop. His face was 
wet, his eyes were wild and bloodshot, and had the 
look of a trapped animal. 

With his gun in the claim jumper’s face. Dusty 


88 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


explained: “I want you to come back, tear down 
your monument and cornerstone, and build my lo- 
cation monument where you found it. I’ll keep my 
gun on you while you do the job, and then you 
GIT land don’t come back, you d scoundrel!” 

Dusty turned to the boys. “I can attend to this 
skunk now. You kids go and look after Jolly and 
Lean Jim. I think they are stunned.” 

Lean Jim had already come .to his senses, and 
was sitting up in the sand, rubbing his head, the 
bullet having skinned his scalp. He was nursing 
his sprained wrist, and watching with interest as 
Dusty drove the claim jumper to the monument to 
begin his tearing down and building up again. He 
had planned to locate his claim at the same place 
as Dusty’s, and to move Dusty’s a little to the 
north, where the ore indications were not so strong. 
As no corner monuments had been built, and the 
record had not been sent to the county seat to be 
recorded, the man might have succeeded in his 
trick, if he had not been caught in the act. 

While the boys were rubbing him, Jolly opened 
his eyes and looked in wonder for a minute before 
he recollected where he was and what had hap- 
pened. 

‘‘It’s all right. Old Timer,” Lean Jim assured 
him. “Dusty has him now, and he’s making him 
tear down his cursed mischief.’^ 

The group of five sat and watched the scene be- 


THE BIG FIGHT 


89 


ing enacted before them in the moonlight. In about 
one-half hour the mischief had been repaired. 

“Now you beat it out of this country,” warned 
Dusty, with his gun still on the man, “and don’t 
come back here claim jumping for a while. In fact, 
I think we could get along without you at all. We 
won’t miss you if you never come back! If I ever 
see you around here again. I’ll have you sent to 
the pen, as I have witnesses enough here to answer 
my purpose, I think. Now GIT!” 

Dusty lifted his foot and applied it to the seat 
of the man’s trousers with a will. With this un- 
dignified lift the claim jumper turned his back on 
the scene of his troubles, and made his way to the 
north of Bed Rock canyon. 

“Was he any one you recognized?” asked Lean 
Jim. 

“No; I’m sure he is a stranger in this district,” 
Dusty replied. “And now how about our casualty 
list ? ” 

With the exception of his wrist, which was pain- 
ing him excessively, and his head, which he had 
tied in his handkerchief. Lean Jim announced that 
he was himself again. Dusty said that he, too, 
with the exception of a few bruises, was a whole 
man. Jolly was in a worse state, for he was 
dizzy and nauseated, but he bravely declared, in 
spite of the rapidly swelling knot on his head, that 
he was not badly upset. 


90 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


Dusty and the boys helped Jolly to the horse 
and cart over the hill, and Sam and Grant har- 
nessed the horse. 

“You are certainly the bravest and most sensible 
bunch of kids IVe ever turned my lamps on,’’ 
said Dusty, admiringly. “Without you, I might 
have lost my mine. I am going to work on the 
claim soon, and we’ll see if there is a lump of gold 
marked ‘For the high school fund of the Side- 
winder Club.’ ” 

Jolly spoke up: “We did what any bunch of 
kids under the circumstances would have done. 
The Sidewinder Club does not have just the one 
selfish aim of bettering its members through educa- 
tion. It has other ideals, and we try to live up to 
them. Gee! In spite of my aching head, we cer- 
tainly had a great time, and I am glad I helped in 
it!” 

Dusty shook hands with all the boys in parting, 
and, assuring themselves that the four lads would 
soon be safely home, even though it was late. Lean 
Jim and Dusty turned their horses’ heads towards 
Kane Springs, while down the silver moonlit trail 
a horse pulled a cart carrying four tired but happy 
boys. 

“I guess those are the kind the desert breeds,” 
said Dusty to Lean Jim, as the men entered Jim’s 
house, a little later, and Lean Jim nodded his head. 


PROGRESS 


91 


CHAPTER XI. 

PROGRESS. 

As the weeks passed, and the first of April came, 
the days grew longer and warmer. This gave more 
time to the boys to work after school, as they all 
did, nearly every night, besides working on Satur- 
days. They were bilsy doing chores at the Red 
Rock mine, and at the Salt Works, on the border 
of the dry salt lake, at odd intervals; they had the 
school janitor work to do; they had dug and were 
still digging post holes for a neighbor, about half 
a mile from the school, who was putting up a fence 
that covered one hundred and sixty acres; another 
man thought with what water he had he could 
grow pears on the desert, as he had heard the soil 
was gocJd, and the boys helped in the laying out of 
the trees; they had killed ten rabbits in all, and 
had their pelts ready for sale when they had a 
larger number. To date they had not killed any 
coyotes. 

On asking why the coyotes would not take the 
bait and be caught in the trap the way an obliging 
coyote should. Bob had been told that this was a 


92 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


dry year, even for the desert, and many cattle 
had died for lack of feed. The coyotes, though 
they 'would rather kill their own meals, ate of the 
dead cattle, for it saved them the trouble of the kill, 
and it was no fun to chase a rabbit when one has 
an empty stomach, and desert folk, when they have 
chickens, have very secure fences. So Mr. Coyote 
had an easy year, so far, without falling into traps. 
The boys, however, kept a number of them set, and 
frequently made the rounds. 

“They are certainly the busiest bunch of boys 
I’ve ever seen,” Jolly’s mother had said to Bob’s 
mother, when they met at the store one day. 

“Yes,” answered Bob’s mother, “and I hope the 
day is coming when we can do something for them 
that will really help. It is hard for the boys, but 
it is doing them good.” 

Another thing accomplished was the capturing 
of two rather wild stray burros by Jolly and Sam. 
The burros had wandered over the desert, home- 
less, as many burros do when turned loose by some 
prospector. With the aid of Jinks and a lasso, the 
boys finally caught the “desert canaries,” as they 
are often called, and they were now running 
notices in the Mojave paper for thirty days. If the 
owners did not claim them by that time, the burros 
would belong to the boys. They knew where they 
could find more up the canyon, but thought it a 
little too early to catch them and feed them, as 


PROGRESS 


93 


they could not make their trip to Los Angeles until 
about August. 

Meanwhile, w^hat about the sum of money they 
had earned? The Sidewinder Club had almost two 
hundred dollars in the treasury. The boys felt quite 
sure that they would have all they needed if they 
kept on working as they had been doing. During 
the summer holidays they would have long days in 
which to wmrk, though it would be very warm. 
They were full of courage. Lean Jim’s gold dust 
and nuggets had netted sixty-five dollars towards 
the fund. 

The boys’ parents were anxious for them to 
drive the burros south, as they had planned. They 
thought the camping trip would do them good, 
after the work of the season, so there was no hin- 
drance to the trip. It was a big event to anticipate, 
and scarcely a day passed that the boys did not 
have a new idea on the subject. 

“If it was only Christmas time,” Jolly had ex- 
claimed one day, “I know how we could get more 
money, but we can do it next year.” 

“How?” asked the members of the Sidewinder 
Club. 

‘n»¥e’d gather desert holly and send it to Los 
Angeles to the flower shops. It is very expensive 
to buy, and it is so pretty every one tvants some.” 

“What’s it like?” queried Bob. 

“It’s a small bush the color of silver. The leaves 


94 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


are small, silver gray and the shape of English 
holly leaves. A very tiny red berry comes into 
evidence at Christmas time.” 

“Where does it grow^?” 

“Oh, in different places on the desert,” replied 
Jolly, waving his arm around. “There is a lot of 
it usually near the mouth of Jawbone canyon, and 
also near Garlock. Well get some all right next 
season.” 

The hoys had been on their way home from 
school when this conversation took place. They 
reached Bob’s home first, and stopped for a drink. 
Mrs. Jack Horner was there calling on Mrs. Bor- 
ton, and she was all smiles. 

“Hello, hoys!” she greeted. “I have something 
for you!” 

Now, the boys were very fond of Mrs. Jack 
Horner, for she was a good cook, and often invited 
them to her house, and gave them cookies and good 
things to eat which they did not get at home. The 
diet at home was often for the most part boiled 
pink beans, with a chunk of bacon or ham, perhaps 
canned peas or corn, home-made bread and canned 
fruit. But the Horners had both cow and chickens, 
and no children, so Mrs. Horner made good things, 
and gave the boys a “feed” every once in a while. 

It was with alacrity that the four followed Mrs. 
Horner to the corner, where she handed out a box 
to Jolly to be divided with the other boys. 


PROGRESS 


95 


‘‘There,” she said, with her pleasant smile, “and 
when you are going on your camping trip south to 
sell the burros, you may depend upon it that you 
will take something good to eat.” 

The boys opened the box. It contained a cream 
cake, first and foremost, and then a piece of meat 
pickled and boiled. Jack Horner had butchered a 
steer a few weeks before, and Mrs. Horner thought 
the growing, hard working boys should have meat 
to eat sometimes. Next they found a bottle of cot- 
tage cheese and a box of fudge. 

It made Mrs. Horner and Mrs. Borton laugh as 
they watched the eager eyes of the boys glisten as 
they produced the goodies that they could not often 
have, because living on the desert on a homestead 
was a barren proposition. The boys divided the 
spoils in four, and their thanks to Mrs. Horner 
were very hearty and grateful. 

“Will you see if any of our five hens laid today 
before you leave?” called Bob’s mother. 

Jolly, Sam and Grant stood in the backyard, 
waiting for Bob, when they heard him call: 

“Come here, you kids, and look what I’ve 
found.” 

In a moment the three were in the chicken yard. 
Bob pointed to a post. There, coiled around the 
foot of the pole, was a great, long snake. In the 
middle it had a bump, just the size of an egg. 

Jolly squealed. 


96 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


‘Ht’s a gopher snake, and he’s been eating your 
eggs. He has swallowed the egg whole, and now 
he’s wound himself around the post to crush the 
egg. That’s the way they do.” 

And Jolly was right, for just then the snake, de- 
ciding that there were too many around him, clung 
tighter to the post, and the bump in him subsided. 
He had crushed the egg. 

“We’ll have to kill him,” Jolly cried; “though 
he won’t hurt us, he will eat every egg your hens 
lay.” 

Grant ran for the shovel that he saw at the side 
of the shack, and Jolly pinned the snake down, 
and then hacked off its head. It was a horrid job, 
but it had to be done. 

“All the snakes, bugs, spiders, tarantulas, scor- 
pions and every other desert plague are coming out 
now because it is getting warm,” announced Jolly, 
“and we’ll have to keep our eyes open on this 
desert from now on!” 

That was the first killing of the day. The second 
made the boys more uncomfortable still. 

Getting his father’s gun. Jolly and the boys went 
the round of their coyote traps on Jinks and on 
Jolly’s horse, which was usually quite a way ahead 
of the obstinate burro. 

Nearing one of the traps, a moan and then a 
yelp could be heard. 


PROGRESS 


97 


“Golly, we’ve caught one!” whispered Sam. 

The boys neared the hush under which they had 
hung a piece of rabbit over a concealed steel trap. 
There was a coyote caught by one foot in the jaws 
of the cruel trap. 

The poor animal seemed to know that his doom 
had come, for, after tearing vainly for a minute 
with cries of fright and pain, as his foot came half 
off, the coyote lay quiet and shivering with moans, 
while Jolly, feeling almost as badly as the suffering 
creature of the desert land, walked up to it, pointed 
his gun between his eyes, and fired. The coyote 
rolled over dead. 

The boys loosed him from the trap, and gloated 
over the hide, which was a beauty. It was agreed 
that Sam and Grant should skin the animal, which 
they strapped to Jinks’ back, and started for home. 

“The feed is growing better now, and the cattle 
are picking up,” said Jolly, “so we begin to run a 
chance of getting the coyotes by traps. Both the 
buzzards and the coyotes may go hungry this sum- 
mer. ” 


% 


98 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


y 


CHAPTER XII. 

JOLLY WINS A VICTORY. 

The last week in April brought Sam and Grant 
radiant faces. On Monday morning they could 
hardly wait for Bob, Jolly and Miss Bowen to ar- 
rive. They had been so anxious to tell their news 
that they had hurried to school long before the 
time. 

‘‘We will have to hold a meeting of the Side- 
winder Club to bring up important business,” Sam 
told Jolly when he arrived. 

Jolly grinned. It must be good news to make 
freckled-faced Sam beam so happily and the more 
sober Grant’s face a wreath of smiles. 

Miss Bowen and the four got together about fif- 
teen minues before it was time for the bell, while 
the other children were playing “Cut the Cheese.” 

“Well, out with your news,” said Father Side- 
winder to Sam, and with this informal order Sam 
began: 

“Dad said the cattle round-up is to be held next 
week!” 


JOLLY WINS A VICTORY 


99 


“Oh, joy!’’ interrupted Bob, who had never seen 
the rodeo. 

Father Sidewinder gave him a stern look, which 
made the enthusiast subside. 

There was a moment of silence. Jolly’s thoughts 
were somewhat unhappy. Of what use was it to 
have the rodeo and cowboys coming on their pintos 
from far and wide to gather up the cattle and 
brand them, if he and his friends were in school all 
of every day? Besides, how could the boys help 
and earn money? The trustees of the school had 
announced a few weeks ago that no spring holiday 
would be held, as was customary. 

So Jolly spoke: “How can we help if we are to 
be in school?” 

Miss Bowen was looking thoughtful, but Sam 
and Grant were not abashed. 

“Do you know what Dad suggested?” 

Jolly nodded his head no. 

“Dad thinks that, as it is important that we earn 
money to go to school next season, that we ought 
to help at the rodeo. He said one of us ought to 
ask the trustees for a week’s holiday, and we could 
make it up at the end of the year if Miss Bowen is 
willing.” 

The boys all turned to Miss Bowen. She smiled: 

“I am not only willing, but anxious,” she re- 


100 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


plied. “I would like to go to the round-up again, 
and I do think that all the children should be there 
to see it. It is not every one who has the oppor- 
tunity to see such a sight. Just think of what city 
children miss! They might have better things to 
eat sometimes, and they can go to a picture show, 
maybe, and see a rodeo, but we have the chance of 
witnessing it first hand!’^ 

This idea was a new point of view to the boys, 
and it gave them the moral courage to determine 
to ask the school trustees for the week’s holiday. 

It seemed the best plan for the four boys to go 
together before the trustees, who were to hold 
their meeting that very night at the Horners’, for 
Little Jack Horner was one of the directors. Who 
would be spokesman? That was the next question. 
All except Jolly agreed that Jolly, as the Father 
Sidewinder, should present the view of the club on 
the matter, and ask if next week might be free for 
the work on hand. 

Jolly was aware of his responsibility as Father 
Sidewinder. It was not that he did not see his 
duty. It was that it seemed a dreadful task to 
stand up before three grown men and talk or plead 
for a cause. Even the other members of the club 
being present would add to his embarrassment, he 
thought. He could fight a claim jumper, and ride 
like mad for the owner of the claim; he could kill 


JOLLY WINS A VICTORY 


101 


sidewinders and gopher snakes; he could trap and 
shoot coyotes, and he could do almost a man’s 
work in many things. But to get up and talk! 

All these things hung heavy on Jolly’s mind. 
He thought he must understand how actors feel 
when they suffer from stage fright. He swallowed 
hard. His three companions and Miss Bowen were 
waiting for him to agree that he would present the 
matter to the school trustees at their meeting to- 
night. It was time for the five-minute bell to ring. 
The little children were gathering around to see 
what was going on. It was now or never. He 
must face this mental embarrassment, even as he 
had faced physical danger when he tripped the 
claim jumper and helped save Dusty’s claim. 

“I’ll do it,” he said, and hardly recognized his 
own voice. “But what under the sun is a fellow to 
isay ? ’ ’ 

“What’s a fellow to say?” jeered Sam. “Well, 
why in holy blazes are you going before the trus- 
tees but to tell them that we belong to the Side- 
winders’ Club, and so on?” 

“Aw, stop your everlasting fooling,” said Jolly, 
crossly, “and if you can’t be of some help, keep 
your mouth shut ! ’ ’ 

Miss Bowen looked at Jolly in surprise. It was 
not like him to be so touchy. But, in truth, it was 
a touch of nerves or irritability that had seized 


102 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


poor Jolly, and he could not be held accountable 
just then. 

“Today is our composition day,” said Miss 
Bowen. “You four boys may all write what you 
think should be said to the trustees. Present the 
matter as clearly as possible, with all arguments, 
so that Jolly may have many hints. I know he 
can think for himself, but different view points are 
interesting, and, what is more, I don’t see why 
Jolly should have all the hard work, after all.” 

So Miss Bowen saved the situation. 

The composition lesson in the afternoon resulted 
in a plan of action which was most sensible. Jolly 
was to tell of the formation and purpose of the 
Sidewinder Club; of how bitterly hard the mem- 
bers were working to earn and to save money; of 
the offer of Sam’s and Grant’s father, who was a 
cattle man, to the members of the club, of work 
during the round-up, when they might earn from 
three to four dollars apiece for each day of the 
rodeo, and then he was to ask the trustees if they 
would declare the week a vacation, as Miss Bowen 
had stated that she approved of the plan and had 
expressed her willingness to make up the work 
with them at the end of the term. 

Miss Bowen also told the boys that she would 
speak in behalf of the vacation, and would say that 


JOLLY WINS A VICTORY 


103 


she thought the rodeo was of value educationally to 
the boys. 

All the members of the club, with the exception 
of Jolly, were overjoyed with the plan. He felt 
as if he were getting the worst of it, and he was 
ashamed of his being so cowardly as to be afraid 
to address the trustees. 

Miss Bowen seemed to divine some of this feeling, 
for during the afternoon recess she offered her as- 
sistance in any way that would help Jolly the most. 
He cheered up, and smiled. 

“Let’s pretend you are the trustees, the three 
kids and yourself, and that the time is tonight, at 
the Horners’, and I’ll make my speech,” he volun- 
teered. 

To this Miss Bowen agreed, and Jolly called to 
his companions that he would he busy the remain- 
der of recess, and for them not to bother him. They 
agreed. He and Miss Bowen went to the porch of 
the school, and Jolly cleared his throat and began. 
It was not so hard, after all, and Jolly did so well 
that he surprised himself. 

“Why, the very idea. Jolly, of your putting up a 
bluff and pretending to he afraid of talking! That 
was very reasonably and appealingly presented. If 
you do as well tonight, I think your cause is won,” 
said Miss Bowen. 

So Jolly was happy, for he began to feel the 


104 


COMRADES OP THE DESERT 


weight of responsibility, and he liked to be impor- 
tant. He meant to be a man of great deeds and 
accomplishment, and, unless he could speak con- 
vincingly, and to the point, he surely never would 
be. After all, it was good practice. 

Miss Bowen did not contemplate any difficulty 
with the trustees of the school, for it would make 
no personal or material difference to them, either 
way, if school was held or not. They were kindly 
men, and wished for the good of the children. Be- 
sides, they were always ready to listen to her 
advice, as she was a trained person for her position, 
and they were but chosen by the neighbors to look 
after school affairs. 

Miss Bowen knew that this was a matter of de- 
velopment for her boys, and that such matters as 
these helped in the making of men, this meeting 
and overcoming of obstacles. She also knew that 
Jolly held promise of being a splendid man, and 
she wished to create more self-confidence in him in 
meeting people in a social as well as in a business 
way. She was confident he could do the latter. 

So it was that Jolly took a very thorough sponge 
bath that evening. No one had bathtubs on the 
desert, but they carried water from the well by the 
pail, and if they had no well they had to haul 
water from the railroad siding. Then Jolly put on 
his very best, which consisted of a pair of corduroy 


JOLLY WINS A VICTORY 


105 


trousers, a white shirt, which he had almost out- 
grown, and a coat which a cousin had sent him. He 
cleaned the mud from his shoes, and his face shone 
with the soap he had rubbed on it so hard. 

The other boys had also made themselves as tidy 
as possible. Bob was the only one who had a really 
nice suit, and that was because he had recently 
come from the city. He did not feel very proud of 
that, either. He would rather have looked just like 
his friends. He comforted himself with the thought 
that he was growing so fast that his mother would 
soon buy him clothes from a mail order house, and 
then he would look like the other boys. 

Miss Bowen had notified the trustees that she 
and her pupils would like to meet with them for a 
short time and present a matter of importance. 
They had given consent. 

It was with quaking heart that Jolly stood up 
before the assembly of seven persons, and began 
his talk. He cleared his throat, and then remem- 
bered that Miss Bowen had warned him not to do 
that, so, in his embarrassment, he cleared it again. 
Sam giggled, and Bob pinched his leg. Bob 
squeaked like a mouse, and all three boys began to 
laugh. Jolly saw them. He thought, as he stood 
up there, that they were laughing at him because 
he could not remember what he was to say. 

This roused his pride. He grew red, and then, 
forgetting his embarrassment, he plunged in, not 


106 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


where he had expected to begin, but still it was a 
beginning which led to a clear conclusion. The 
trustees, who had already heard of the club, were 
pleased with Jolly’s straightforward presentation 
of the subject. 

When Jolly had concluded. Little Jack Horner 
began to clap, and then the other directors of the 
school enthusiastically followed suit. 

“When I was a kid I could no more have gotten 
up and done that than the man in the moon!” one 
of them exclaimed. 

“Get into the kitchen, you kids!” ordered Little 
Jack Horner, “and see what Mrs. Horner has for 
you, while we talk a minute and take the vote.” 

Sam, Grant and Bob were ashamed of their 
clownish behavior at the beginning of the meeting, 
and they were proud of Jolly’s success. 

“We couldn’t help but giggle,” whispered Grant 
to Jolly. “I think we were all seared.” 

But Jolly was forgiving, for he felt the thrill of 
success, and he knew he had won over himself, and 
would not be afraid to talk another time before 
people. 

The boys were eating fresh, hot doughnuts and 
drinking chocolate, piled high with whipped cream, 
that Mrs. Horner had prepared for them, when 
Jack Horner, followed by his two associates, en- 
tered the kitchen. 

“We have agreed that you shall have your vaca- 


JOLLY WINS A VICTORY 


107 


tion next week,” he announced, “and we wish you 
success in earning your way through school. You 
kids deserve success if any ever did. It will be 
necessary that you make up for lost time at the 
end of the term, as you suggested.” 

The four hoys were overjoyed, and it did not 
take a hint from Miss Bowen to make Jolly rise to 
his feet, and thank the trustees, in the name of the 
club. Then he turned to his three companions: 

“Three cheers for the trustees of the Red Rock 
School!” he cried, waving his paper napkin, and 
Miss Bowen joined in the hurrah that followed. 

That night, when Jolly snuggled in bed, he 
buried his face in his pillow for a moment, and 
whispered : 

“I fought my battle today, and I won it tonight, 
and, oh, I’m so glad!” 


108 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


CHAPTER XIII. 

PREPARATIONS FOR THE RODEO. 

The rodeo was to begin on Tuesday, which would 
give cowboys who were riding from a distance time 
to make the trip. The plan was to hold the round- 
up at Sam’s and (Grant’s home. The corral had to 
be enlarged, and this work was begun by the four 
boys, with Mr. Tate and some of the neighbors. 

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday were to be 
occupied by riding the range and rounding up all 
the cattle for a distance of more than thirty miles. 
The cattle had to be driven to a large, wire-fenced 
enclosure, and corralled until Friday. Then they 
would be sorted, branded, altered and vaccinated. 
They would then be turned loose on the range 
again until time to send them to market. Each 
cattle owner brought his branding iron with his 
particular brand. 

The corral which was being built was of ties 
bought from the railroad company. Deep holes 
had to be dug, and the ties were stood upright 
therein, and the earth was thrown back. Thus 
they were strong, firm and cattle-proof. Runw’ays 


PREPARATIONS FOR THE RODEO 109 

were made for the cattle to run out when the three 
necessary operations had been performed upon 
them. 

Bob heard much talk of the rodeo, and he was 
anxious to understand it. When working beside 
Mr. Tate, he asked him a number of questions, and 
the older man was glad to tell what he knew of the 
business, so Bob would understand. 

“How do you know what to brand the cattle?” 
Bob began. 

“Every cattle owner has his own brand, so no one 
can steal his cattle. The brand is registered and 
no one else can use it. Brands must be in straight 
lines if cast on the end of the iron, but some mark 
their cattle by drawing on the hide with the hot 
iron. We usually not only brand with the iron, 
but also cut the ear in some way, so the owner has 
really at least two marks with which to identify 
his cattle.” 

“What do you vaccinate them for? Do they get 
smallpox ? ” 

“No. There are two diseases they are liable to. 
One of them is anthrax, and no one seems to know 
how they get it, and the other is black leg. Black 
leg is usually caused by cattle being on too swampy 
ground. We vaccinate them by putting a pill, 
which is composed of some preventive, into their 
necks, as a rule.” 


110 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


“Why is a steer the most valuable of the cattle?” 
questioned Boh. 

“For many reasons,” replied Mr. Tate. “In the 
first place, he does less running around, and so 
gains more fiesh. His meat is more tender. He is 
easier to handle, as a rule. Also, a steer is rarely a 
fighter, and will do no damage compared to a bull. 
Do you think we could allow you to roam the desert 
if it were overrun with bulls?” 

“I am never afraid of the cattle, anyway,” re- 
marked Bob. “Now that I understand about them, 
I would be less afraid. When I first came to the 
desert I was scared when I met the cattle on my 
way to school, but they seemed tame, or else more 
afraid of me than I was of them. Jolly told me 
there was no danger.” 

He continued: 

“I should think it would hurt the cattle to do 
all these things to them.” 

“Oh, I guess it does hurt some,” replied the older 
man ; ‘ ‘ but they don ’t seem to mind it so much, and 
they soon heal.” 

Just then Sam called to Bob to come and look 
at the branding iron. It was a long rod of iron, 
and on one end was a large V, with two horizontal 
marks under it. It was this iron which Sam’s 
father used and which designated his cattle. 

“It has to he heated red hot and then stamped 
on the steer,” explained Sam. “Dad always has 


PREPABATIONS FOR THE RODEO 111 


some melted tallow on hand, and the branding iron 
is put in that before it is on the cattle, so the wound 
will be sealed, and the air can’t get to it. Then it 
will not hurt so much. Very many people do not 
do that way, though.” 

By Monday the vaqueros began to arrive. They 
came from a radius of at least fifty miles. On the 
back of their saddles they had a roll of bedding 
strapped, for they would have to sleep on the 
ground at night, though they were all to eat in 
the big kitchen belonging to the Tates. Mrs. Tate, 
Sam’s and Grant’s mother, with Mrs. Horner and 
Mrs. Borton, were going to do the cooking and 
dishwashing for the men. The cowboys numbered 
about twelve, not counting the four members of the 
Sidewinder Club; Little Jack Homer, who had 
come to assist because he liked to be around cattle, 
and Mr. Tate. The women, too, had a big job be- 
fore them, but they did not mind that. 

The cowboys always regard the rodeo as the big 
vacation of the year, and it is the one season when 
a group of them can get together and have a jolly 
time. 

As they rode to the Tates’ homestead, in ones 
and twos and threes, there were merry shouts of 
greeting, and all were prepared for hard work as 
well as a good time. 

Bob had never seen such a picturesque group of 


112 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


men. They were certainly Wild West. Many of 
them had been riding the range for days, and had 
no time to shave or dress up, but that did not 
worry them. A cowboy dude at a rodeo would be 
hooted ! 

The vaqueros wore their broad-brimmed cowboy 
hats, beneath which their brown faces shone. Their 
teeth, in contrast to the brown of their faces, 
gleamed white in frequent bursts of laughter. 

They wore loose, dark woolen shirts, with belts 
or suspenders to hold them up, and they wore chaps. 
How Bob did admire those chaps! They were 
fluffy goatskins, and one vaquero had dyed his 
purple, and had a braided rope around his horse’s 
nose to match. The majority of the boys wore 
black chaps. The brightly colored handkerchiefs 
twisted around their necks gave a dash of color to 
the sombre attire. 

And, oh, how excited the horses are at the rodeo ! 
They are eager for it, and they know their business. 
The horses sniffed and snorted, looked towards the 
corral where a few cattle were, and pawed the 
ground. They were eager for the fun. 

By Monday night every one was on the scene 
of action, and the directions to be taken by the 
cowboys were planned, for a very early start would 
be made the next morning. After each cowboy, or 
group of cowboys, had been out on his long hunt 


PREPARATIONS FOR THE RODEO 113 


for cattle and corralled them, his work for the day 
was done. 

It was agreed that Jolly and Sam, as they were 
fair horsemen, were to search the hills near Red 
Rock, and bring in all the cattle they could. Bob 
and Grant were to do chores for the women until 
the cattle began to come in; then they would help 
as called upon. They had to chop wood, peel vege- 
tables which were brought from Mojave for the 
feasts. When the branding began it was their 
duty to keep the branding fire going. The boys 
were to receive four dollars a day for their ser- 
vices, which were not concluded for the day until 
each night the supper dishes were washed and put 
away. It would make long, hard days, but the boys 
were ready. 

That night, under the stars, twelve cowboys un- 
rolled their blankets, and with them were Sam, 
Grant, Jolly and Bob, who insisted on sleeping out 
with the vaqueros on the ground. It was a pleas- 
ant night, with countless stars shining from the 
blue vault overhead, and the boys slept so soundly 
that they did not hear the yelp of a coyote, about 
a mile away, as he was unwittingly caught in one 
of their traps. 


114 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


CHAPTER XIV. 

ROUNDING UP THE CATTLE. 

It seemed to the four earnest young workers, 
Jolly, Bob, Sam and Grant, that it was still night 
when Mrs. Tate called to them to get up. Forth- 
with arose twelve cowboys. The four members of 
the Sidewinder Club were soon rolling out of their 
blankets, which they rolled up and put out of the 
way, as did their companions. It was still dark, 
and a few stars were shining bravely forth, but 
rapidly dimming with approaching dawn. There 
was a line of light over the eastern ridges, and it 
grew brighter, tingeing the streaks of gray white 
morning clouds with pink and rose colors. The air 
was chill and brisk, and very refreshing. By the 
time the sun was ready to jump above the horizon, 
as it appeared to do in its haste, the men were 
finishing their breakfast, while the quicker ones 
were out throwing the saddles on their horses. 

“I really don’t see how they will know their 
own cattle,” said Bob to Grant, as the boys stood 
out in the morning light watching the men gallop 
off, 


ROUNDING UP THE CATTLE 


115 


“Why, every cattle man knows his own cattle as 
a mother knows her children, as a rule. You see, 
they are constantly riding the range, keeping track 
of them and the calves as they are born.’^ 

“What if some of the cattle escape unbranded?’’ 
asked Bob. 

“I heard Dad say that all cattle not claimed go 
to the county in thirty days. That is, they are 
county property.” 

Grant and Bob were then summoned to help wipe 
dishes and do other jobs. Sam thought this was 
rather hard lines for boys to have to do kitchen 
work instead of helping with the cattle, but it was 
the task assigned, and they had to do it. When 
Grant had cautiously mentioned this subject to his 
father he had been promptly silenced and some- 
what ashamed. 

“I think if the work is not demeaning for your 
mother to do, you can at least assist,” he had said; 
“not that it is the work we might choose to do, but 
it is the work we have before us. Besides, it is a 
good thing for you to learn all these things. If 
you can’t help in the preparation of a meal, and 
help clearing up, what under the sun do you expect 
to do when you go camping on your way to Los 
Angeles ? ’ ’ 

Such a flood of convincing arguments, together 
with the fact that the four boys would have four 


116 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


dollars apiece for each of the six days they worked, 
somewhat altered the matter. It meant a total of 
ninety-six dollars towards the high school fund. 
Grant was ashamed of himself for saying anything. 
He knew Bob went to work with a will, and asked 
no questions as to why he had to do things, but 
instead asked questions which taught him things he 
did not know before. 

Grant did not know that it is a credit to a person 
to have the grace to be ashamed after making a 
mistake, such as he had made, so he worked hard 
to prove that, no matter what the task, he would 
do it cheerfully. 

Meanwhile Jolly and Sam were galloping over 
the desert towards Red Rock canyon, watching the 
sage closely for indications of cattle. 

To the east in a fold of hills, three cowboys were 
disappearing, one of them being Mr. Tate. They 
were going towards Last Chance canyon. 

After searching and scouring the brush, the nooks 
and side canyons of Red Rock, the two boys had 
only found three steers. Towards noon, hungry 
and worn, they were driving homeward. The steers 
had objections to being forced towards the mouth 
of the canyon, but, once out, with much calling and 
rope throwing, the lads had them headed for the 
Tate corral. 

At the corral the vaqueros were beginning to 


ROUNDING UP THE CATTLE 


117 


come in with their quarry. The steers, bulls and 
cows with their calves were indignant and fright- 
ened, and the entrance to the corral was a lively 
place. 

The men were dusty and dirty and tired. Per- 
spiration was pouring from some of their faces, 
and a few of the horses were flecked with foam, for 
the day was without a breeze, and had turned blis- 
tering hot to ride the range. 

The calves were making the most trouble of all. 
As one after another approached the gate with the 
mother cow, it would be seized with fright and re- 
bellion. Many a one would turn from the gate and 
start for the stretches of desert, which meant free- 
dom again. Then the cowboys on their horses were 
after them. If they could not head them for the 
corral again, they would gallop around them, and 
throw the rope and lasso them. After throwing the 
calf it was an easy matter to get it to the corral. 

The corral where the cattle were to be sorted 
was already alive with tramping feet and cattle 
running along the fence looking for a means of 
escape which they could not find. 

It was thus two days passed in hard work for all. 
The late afternoons were spent in resting, lounging 
and talking by the vaqueros until dinner was 
ready. Dinner was served early, and then followed 
the j oiliest time of the day. In the evening the few 


118 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


girls and women in the valley came to the Tate 
home, and dancing and games were indulged in 
until about 10 o’clock, when all were off to bed to 
prepare for the new day. 

The third day of gathering the cattle dawned 
clear and even warmer than the two previous days. 

Jolly and Sam rode off to the east towards Neu- 
ralia, and Mr. Tate, with some other cowboys, was 
not far away. 


BADGER HOLE MAKES MISCHIEF 119 


CHAPTER XV. 

A BADGER HOLE MAKES MISCHIEF. 

Not a word was exchanged by Jolly and Sam as 
they rode across the gray sage in the hot snn. 
Their horses galloped along untiringly and swerved 
at a touch of the driving rein to the left and to the 
right as they felt the jerk. 

“I think most of the cattle are in by this time,” 
remarked Jolly, at last. “Gee, I’m about roasted, 
and my neck and throat are so sunburned I can 
hardly stand it, but I don’t hear any one else fuss- 
ing about it.” 

Sam grinned. “I’d fuss, too, if it became a cow- 
boy, but anyway I think I go mostly to freckles.” 

Sam was right. His face was more thickly stud- 
ded with freckles than was the sky with stars on a 
clear desert night. Both boys laughed. This con- 
fidence on their weaknesses relieved them, for, after 
all, it was a little hard do be doing a man’s work 
all the time, just as if tljey were not boys ! 

Sam pulled his horse to a sudden stop. “Look 
over there. Jolly. I think that looks mighty 
funny!” 


120 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


Jolly stopped, and shaded his eyes from the sun 
with his hand. He lifted his head high, and stood 
on his stirrups as Sam was doing, to look across the 
sage. 

What Jolly saw was a crawling form which 
looked for an instant like a mess of legs in the air. 

The desert is very quiet, and sounds that arise 
can be heard for miles away. , A train may be 
heard at a distance of from one to even six or eight 
miles on a still day, and particularly in the morn- 
ing and evening. The atmosphere is so clear that 
distances are deceptive, and hills and objects which 
are in reality many miles across the stretch of 
land look not many steps away at times, or, at the 
least, but a mile. 

So, it was across the sage the boys heard what 
seemed to be a call for help and the moaning of 
something hurt. 

‘‘We’d better beat it over there without losing 
any time!” exclaimed Jolly, wheeling his horse to 
the east and starting off at a gallop. Sam was up 
wdth him in a moment. 

The horses raced with one another, and so fast 
did they cover the ground that they were soon 
nearing their goal. They came to the edge of a 
deep dry wash. It was a treacherous place, and, 
slowing their horses up, then coming to a full stop, 
the lads listened. 

Across the desert air came the persistent moan- 


BADGER HOLE MAKES MISCHIEF 121 


ing and groaning of an animal in pain. Jolly- 
jumped from his horse, and peered down the 
crooked crevices of the arroyo. He stooped and 
hobbled his horse’s front feet, and motioned to Sam 
to do the same. 

Together the two slid down the straight side of 
the treacherous arroyo. A snake wound itself 
quickly out of sight, and a coyote jumped from a 
barren hollow and ran swiftly down the crooked 
bed of the dry stream bed. 

Reaching the bottom, the boys ran as fast as they 
could, picking their way through the uneven, wind- 
ing way, with Jolly in the lead. 

There was a sharp turn. The groans grew louder 
and more insistent. 

“Oh!” cried both the boys, at the same time, in 
pity and horror. 

There lay one of the cowboy’s horses. His head 
was twisted curiously under him, and some of his 
ribs were sticking out of his tortured side. The 
suffering animal was making hideous groans and 
writhing painfully to extricate his head. 

From the silence above there came a sudden call, 
“Hello, there!” in a man’s voice, and Sam and 
Jolly gave an answering call. 

“Come here, and get my gun, and shoot the poor 
beast!” ordered the voice. 

Jolly and Sam called back that they would come, 
and then began a perilous ascent, while the groans 


122 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


of the horse grew more terrible, as the animal 
realized that those who had come to help him were 
leaving. 

After climbing over crumbling, weakened walls, 
and going almost straight up bowlders in other 
places, the boys reached the top of the bank. 

‘‘Here!” said the voice, and it was one of suffer- 
ing. 

Jolly fought his way through the tangled sage, 
with the perspiration dripping from his brow. Ly- 
ing half under a sand dune, with his head caught 
in the prickles of a dry, dead bush, lay Little Jack 
Horner, with his face twisted in pain. 

“My horse stumbled carelessly into a badger 
hole. The ground gave way and pitched him for- 
ward down into the wash, and threw me here, with 
broken something or other. I tried to crawl, and 
was just going to make another attempt. Here, 
take my gun, and go down and shoot that poor 
beast — he has seen his last rodeo.” 

Jolly felt a chill going through him. What an 
awful task for him to do! But he knew that he 
was older than Sam, and that Jack Horner was 
speaking to him. 

Jack Horner was fumbling for his gun, and final- 
ly handed it to Jolly. 

“You stay here with Mr. Horner, while I go and 


BADGER HOLE MAKES MISCHIEF 123 


kill the horse,” Jolly instructed Sam, and, taking 
the gun, he once more started down the defile. 

The task was a painful one, hut Jolly soon had 
accomplished it. The horse in its writhing had 
pulled his head from under, and, putting the cool 
barrel of the revolver near its glazed and suf- 
fering eyes. Jolly pulled the trigger. The air 
cleared. With a single shudder, the sickening 
groans ceased, the body relaxed, and the brave 
little pinto who had done his best, was dead. 

When Jolly had again reached Jack Horner he 
found that Sam had been sent to get the horses, 
and that the injured man was insistent upon riding 
home with the boys on one of their horses, in spite 
of his broken ribs and twisted body. 

It was a hard trail home, but the three made it, 
and Jack Horner was much abashed to be the one 
cowboy to have been hurt and to have but a 
badger hole the cause. 

At the Tate corral the cowboys were busy sorting 
the branded cattle, and those that belonged to 
vaqueros who did not appear at the round-up were 
turned loose. 

The scenes of the next day were the most thrill- 
ing of all to the four boys. 

The vaqueros rode their snorting horses into the 
corral, where they quieted down and attended to 


124 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


business. The calves were lassoed, thrown, and, 
with the ropes drawn tight around their legs, they 
were helpless. Mr. Tate and another cowboy did 
the branding, and Grant and Bob kept a roaring 
fire, where the branding irons were heated red hot, 
and they kept a pot of melted tallow ready to seal 
the burns. The majority of the males were al- 
tered, and many of them bellowed and hollered, 
but most of them, though frightened, kept quiet. 
The ears were cut while the cattle were down, and 
lastly they were sent down one of the runways, 
where they were vaccinated before they could pass 
through. They were then turned loose on the 
desert again, with ears dripping with trickles of 
red blood and with sore sides from the burning 
iron. 

They seemed frisky enough, however. The little 
calves jumped around, and called for their mothers, 
who came and licked their injuries, and then led 
them off to the brush to comfort them. The larger 
steers roamed sulkily off, as if to show that they 
did not care one bit what man could do to them ! 

It was just before sunset, Friday evening, when 
the last steer galloped out of the corral, glad of 
his freedom. Many of the cowboys left immediately 
to strap their bedding on their horses’ backs, so 
they could be on their way home before twilight 
turned into night. 


BADGER HOLE MAKES MISCHIEF 125 


To the members of the Sidewinder Club the rodeo 
had not only meant a great deal of hard work, but 
it meant that they had learned much, and that they 
had added ninety-six dollars to the high school 
fund, which was now near the three hundred dollar 
mark. 


126 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


CHAPTER XVI. 

VARIOUS LESSONS ON A SUNDAY WALK. 

“Bet you can’t guess what I have here!” ex- 
claimed Jolly, one Sunday, a couple of weeks later, 
as he and Keeno walked into Bob’s backyard, 
where Sam and Grant already were, together with 
Jinks, who was amusing himself eating all the 
labels on the cans on the junk pile. 

Jolly was carrying a box in his hand, and there 
was a mischievous gleam in his eye. Bob cautiously 
backed away from him, but Sam kept his ground. 

“Let a fellow see,” he urged. 

“Look out, then,” yelled Jolly, in mock terror, 
and he opened the lid of his box as he placed it on 
the ground. Out walked a monster turtle! It was 
almost the size of the seat of a small straight chair. 
Carved in its hard, brown shell was the word 
“Jolly.” 

“Oh, Jolly, what did you hurt him for?” asked 
Bob. 

“I didn’t hurt him, you baby!” and with this 
retort Jolly stepped on the turtle’s back, and bal- 
anced himself on one foot for fully a minute. Mr. 


LESSONS ON A SUNDAY WALK 127 


Turtle did not raise any objections, but merely 
drew in his head, as if to say: ‘‘Now I am safe/’ 

Bob was very much astonished at this perform- 
ance. 

“Where did you get the thing, and what is it 
really?” 

“Why, it’s just EE ALLY a land turtle, and they 
grow to this enormous size. I found him ambling 
along the road. Maybe he was bound for Mojave, 
but I invited him to come along here with me, and 
call on you. Sir Bob.” 

The boys examined the turtle more closely, and 
found some one else had cut initials on him, and 
they read “L. J. ” 

“That must mean Lean Jim!” Grant cried, laugh- 
ing. 

“Aw, these things just wander all around, and 
nearly every one who meets them leaves his mark 
just for fun, but I guess I’ve taken almost the 
whole slate.” Johnny looked at his name on the 
turtle. “These turtles are good to eat.” 

“Can’t I have him. Jolly?” pleaded Bob. 

“Sure you can have him. He’ll stay around here 
and be a nice pet, and he’ll eat flies,” answered 
Jolly. 

“I came over to see if you boys didn’t want to 
take a walk over toward Jawbone canyon this 
afternoon. It’s kind of warm, but I feel like walk- 
ing.” 


128 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


“Yes; let’s go,” agreed Sam. “This is one day 
we don’t have to work. Come on, kids.” 

The four stopped at the well for a drink, and 
then began their walk to the west. 

A slight breeze blew through Jawbone canyon 
and over the greasewood bushes, carrying with it 
the scent of the bush. It was like the smell of 
coming rain. Bob sniffed his nose in the air: 

“It’s going to rain,” he announced, and began 
looking for clouds, but saw none, for the hot blue 
sky was absolutely clear and dazzling. 

His three companions laughed. 

“Rain! Your foot!” said Sam, scornfully. 
“Don’t you know the smell of greasewood yet?” 

This was unanswerable, and Jolly began to tell 
what he knew of the greasewood, which grew in 
profusion around the boys as they trudged towards 
the hills. 

The greasewood, as natives of the desert call it, 
is really the creosote bush. It grows at least six 
or eight feet tall. Numerous branches spring out 
from the ground. They are fine and black in color, 
and are covered with finer twigs, on which grow 
the glossiest of dark green leaves. They resemble 
the leaves of the maidenhair fern in smallness, fine- 
ness of shape and profusion. They are like filagree 
work on the numerous branches. 


LESSONS ON A SUNDAY WALK 129 


“The Indians evidently do not like the smell of 
the creosote bush, for that is its real name,” said 
Jolly, “for they call it a word that in our language 
means stink bush. I read in a botany book the 
other day that it was the rosin with which the 
leaves are kind of tarnished that makes it smell so. 
I like the odor.” 

“I do, too,” said Bob. “What else do you know 
about it?” 

“I know that every once in a while my mother 
sends me out to gather the leaves, and she makes 
a kind of tea with it.” 

“For goodness sake, what does she use it for? 
Do you drink it?” asked Grant. 

“No; but my mother says it is a tonic to drink 
before breakfast, and I read that the Indians use it 
for a medicine. If you drink enough of it, it 
causes vomiting, and so cleans out the stomach. 
My mother uses it for a hair tonic mostly, and Dad 
uses it as a liniment on our horses, and I have used 
it on Keeno. He had a raw place once, and I put 
it on, because Dad told me to. It is supposed to 
be good for people with colds, too. Indians used 
to take the rosin and mix it with pulverized rock, 
and it would form a gum, with which they glued 
their arrow heads to the shafts. The tea is also 
used by sheep men for a sheep dip.” 


130 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


“Well, it is a useful bush, I must say, and how. 
nice it must be to know so many things. Jolly,” 
remarked Bob. 

“You can ask enough questions in a square min- 
ute to soon know the little I know,” replied Jolly, 
“but I find I learn a good deal by reading, too.” 

“We don’t have time to read now that we are 
working so hard,” put in Sam. 

“Oh, yes, we do,” contradicted Jolly, quickly. 
“I read all that about the creosote bush the other 
day, when I had finished my studying. You know 
Miss Bowen will always let us read if we know our 
lessons and read something good from our library.” 

Sam nodded his head in half apology. He did not 
care much for reading, and wished that he did read 
more. He made up his mind to get his lessons in 
time to do some reading once, and see if he could 
answer some of Bob’s eternal questions. 

But Bob had started again. 

“I thought that creosote was an oil.” 

“It is, but the smell of the bush is said by some 
to resemble the smell of creosote oil.” 

The boys were nearing the mouth of the canyon. 
They saw lumbering toward them a large bay horse. 
He wandered in an aimless manner, and seemed 
not to care which direction he took, so the boys 
walked towards him, as he appeared gentle. 


LESSONS ON A SUNDAY WALK 131 


On closer investigation, the horse was found to 
have a peculiar look in his eye. 

“For the love of Mike! I know what ails him, 
Jolly!” Sam exclaimed. “He’s loco! He has been 
eating loco weed,” he explained to Bob, “and that 
always make them dippy, though they are not al- 
ways dangerous — in fact, seldom are.” 

“Some people say that loco weed does not grow 
here, but that the animals get so much sand in their 
stomachs that they get dippy,” interrupted Grant, 
“but I’ll bet that it is loco weed all right. They 
can never be cured, once they have eaten the 
weed.” 

The peculiar horse turned from them in disgust 
at this discussion regarding his eccentricities, and 
disappeared among the greasewood bushes. 

It was soon after that the strollers turned home- 
ward. They had had a walk of several miles, and 
it would be several more before they could reach 
their respective homes. 

As they neared the station, some time later, they 
found the cattle pens, next to the tracks, which 
were used for loading cattle on trains, as full of 
bleating sheep as they could possibly be. So Bob 
saw his first sheep and lambs, outside of a butcher 
shop ! 

The sheep had been sheared of their wool, and 
were to be shipped on the night train to a southern 


132 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


market, the boys learned from the herders, who 
were French. They told the boys, in their broken 
language, that they always came through the desert 
in the spring to get the fresh, young feed that was 
coming up. The men were sure to escape with their 
flocks as soon as possible, as the drinking water 
was scarce, but it was necessary to pass through 
the desert on the way to better feeding grounds 
beyond. 

One of the sheep herders told of a more extraor- 
dinarily dry year than usual, when the sheep drop- 
ped dead in their tracks for water, and it was 
necessary to leave the young ones and weaklings 
behind to die, because they could not keep up. The 
man said that a number of coyotes trailed sneak- 
ingly after the flocks to prey on the dead as they 
dropped in their tracks, and the buzzards hovered 
jealously overhead to be the first at the feast, when 
the breath had left the body of the suffering sheep. 

It was sunset when the boys turned from the 
corral to get home as quickly as possible. A few 
clouds had arisen over the western horizon. As 
the sun dropped out of sight, they turned from 
faint tinges of color to violet streaks of red, purple, 
blue and yellow. The whole sky and earth seemed 
bathed in brilliant coloring, or afterglow. The 
barren hills took on softer shapes in this fairy 
scheme and mingled their shades of violet and 


LESSONS ON A SUNDAY WALK 133 


lavender. The twilight deepened into night, and 
the colors faded softly and gently. Night had 
come. Across the desert came the call of the coyote. 
It was a yap, a shrill howl, and ended in a shud- 
dering, bloodcurdling howl. It was the sound typi- 
cal of the desert night. 


134 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


CHAPTER XVII. 

LESSONS IN ENDURANCE. 

Hot summer days had come, and the desert peo- 
ple, those who could not get away, settled down to 
make the best of it. 

In taking a homestead, one is allowed five months 
of the year away. But many on the desert do not 
have money to take advantage of this and leave for 
the summer. It is cheaper to stay at home. Living 
on the desert is not expensive, and there is enough 
work to do everywhere, if one but sees it. 

The desert is particularly hard on women. They 
have no conveniences for their work. The avail- 
able food needs much preparation, unless cans of 
food are opened, and this is not healthy for con- 
stant diet. There is no baker, no milkman, no 
laundryman. No one to do -the work, except 
mother! So it was that Jolly was taught to be 
helpful, among other lessons. 

It is the prospectors, though, who lead the most 
persistent desert life from choice. With their pack 
burro, pick, shovel and frying pan, they trudge the 
hills, searching for hidden wealth. Sometimes they 


LESSONS IN ENDURANCE 


135 


strike it big, and go to a city, and live high. This 
is invariably the case with them, instead of saving. 
Some of them spend their lives searching for gold 
and other minerals, and never find more than 
enough to pay for their beans and fiapjack flour. 
These men do not seek companionship of others, 
but when they meet some one on the road they 
generally have a pleasant greeting ready. 

The story was told Jolly by one of the prospec- 
tors who followed the trails through the Mojave 
and Colorado deserts to Tonopah, of his camping, 
one night, at the foot of a barren knoll. It was a 
bitterly cold night, and the prospector’s coffee had 
given out. There was not much growth from which 
to gather firewood. He was tired, and it was very 
dark. Suddenly, on the knoll above him, he saw 
a bonfire blaze up, and a man kneeling over it, 
warming himself. The smell of fragrant coffee was 
wafted to the tired, hungry, cold man below. 

He started up the knoll towards the fire. 

“Got an extra drink of coffee?” he called, when 
within hailing distance. 

The man looked up from the fire. 

“No; I ain’t got no extra nothing.” 

The prospector turned away, disappointed and 
disgusted. This was no way to treat a wayfarer, a 
companion of the road. 

That night a sudden storm arose. There was a 


136 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


cloudburst over the knoll where the disobliging 
stranger was spending the night. The larger part 
of his belongings were swept away, and what was 
left was ruined. 

The man to whom he had refused a place by his 
fire, the night before, looked up and saw what had 
happened. The cloudburst had not touched him. 
It was one of those curious ones that empty their 
water by the bucket load on the desert for perhaps 
a quarter of a mile, and the rest of the land goes 
thirsty. 

‘ ‘ Come on down here, you d , ’ ’ he called, 

“and I’ll show you the way a real man acts.'’ 

The humbled man came down the hill, and joined 
in the meal the prospector had prepared. 

Jolly always wondered if that man had learned 
his lesson. He liked to listen to such stories as 
long as the mining men would tell them. 

It was stories like these which mirrored a differ- 
ent life to the desert lads from that which their 
city brothers led. It was the hardships which they 
had to contend with that made them begin the hot 
summer that was before them, without a thought 
of trying to escape or to have a more easy and 
pleasant time. 

When school was over for the season, and Jolly 
and Bob had the certificates which meant they 
might enter the high school in the fall, they knew 


LESSONS IN ENDURANCE 


137 


they had but a short tune to work, and they must 
raise about two hundred and fifty dollars before the 
Sidewinder Club had won the point it had started 
out to win. 

The four boys applied to the manager of the 
salt works for steady work. It seemed to be the 
only chance of a job, with the exception of clearing 
land for a non-resident owner, and the boys were 
certain they could do this in their spare time. They 
were given work by the salt company at three 
dollars a day. 

As a rule, the salt works were not running all 
the year round, as it was not necessary. The salt 
water was pumped from the lake into vats, where 
it was left to evaporate. The salt remained in the 
vat. When dry, the salt was prepared for market. 
The four boys were to sew the tops of the sacks, 
when they were full, for shipment. It was expected 
that the work for the year would be completed by 
the first of August. This was just right for Jolly 
and his companions, as they were planning for 
their trip to Los Angeles with the burros. 

Before leaving for her Los Angeles home. Miss 
Bowen had given the boys the address of a man 
who would buy the burros. She knew him person- 
ally. He had said that he could sell the burros, 
and would give the lads ten dollars apiece for them. 
Miss Bowen had also invited the boys to stop at her 


138 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


house while in the city. They would thus be spared 
the expense of city living. 

Four burros had been captured and advertised 
with no result. This meant they belonged to the 
boys. Lean Jim had promised them one of his 
burros. Little Jack Horner, who remembered the 
time that Jolly and Sam had found him on the 
desert, with broken ribs, and had taken him home, 
after shooting his horse for him, had another burro 
for them. Jinks was also to be sold, if the money 
was needed. This meant seventy dollars, if the 
plan was successful. 

The coyote skins now numbered six, and at five 
dollars apiece they would net thirty dollars. 

If the salt works should remain open, the boys 
altogether would be earning twelve dollars per 
day, and the two months of work should bring 
them a little over six hundred dollars. When Jolly 
reached this conclusion, he was startled. It meant, 
however, that there would be a nucleus for Sam 
and Grant the following year to build on. 

No matter how warm the days, the boys were 
going to work hard. They had seen and learned 
many lessons in endurance. To their observing 
eyes, by this time, the housewives with their prob- 
lems, the cattle men with their problems, and the 
prospectors with their problems, and, in fact, every 
struggler on the desert, was an example of courage, 


LESSONS IN ENDURANCE 


139 


and the boys wanted to be worthy of the pioneer 
land. 

The rabbit drive was not necessary, according to 
the present financial outlook, and four boys went 
to work with a will, the first of June, sewing the 
tops of salt sacks. 


140 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


CHAPTER XVHI. 

SISTER MARY PLANS A SURPRISE. 

Sister Mary, as she was always called, was Jolly’s 
sister. She had completed the grammar school 
work, and had been to the high school for one year 
before the family moved on the desert. Since that 
time she helped her mother with the housework, 
and recently she had been sewing on many pretty 
materials, for Sister Mary was to marry one of the 
cowboys who had come to the rodeo. 

This event of the near future did not take Sister 
Mary’s thoughts from what her brother Jolly and 
his friends were doing. 

' ‘Mother,” said Sister Mary, one very warm day 
in July, “I have thought of what we can do for the 
boys when they go away.” 

“I have been trying to think of something, but I 
can’t,” the mother replied. “Those boys work 
so hard for themselves that I have not seen a single 
thing we could do except to make things as com- 
fortable and happy as possible for them what time 
they spend at home.” 

“Didn’t Jolly say when they would be leaving 
on their camping trip?” asked Sister Mary. 


SISTER MARY PLANS SURPRISE 141 


“He said that the salt works were going to close 
in another week, because the salt was nearly all 
ready for shipment. That means the hoys are not 
going to earn about one hundred and fifty dollars 
they had planned on. They will have earned some- 
thing over four hundred, though, and that is a lot 
of money. They will probably go to Los Angeles 
in about two weeks from now. Jolly asked me if 1 
would have the grocery price book ready, so they 
could see what supplies they would have to order.’* 

Sister Mary smiled. Then she went to her mother, 
and whispered something that even Baby Jim 
could not hear, as he sat on the fioor near by, hold- 
ing a kitten close in his arms, as Keeno tried to get 
near enough to be playful, too. 

The whisper made mother smile, too. 

“We’ll do it!” she exclaimed, and began knead- 
ing her bread more emphatically than ever with 
rolls and punches. 

So it was that Sister Mary harnessed the horses 
late that afternoon, put on a pretty, clean dress, 
and washed and dressed Jim, while her mother 
tidied herself, and the three of them rattled across 
the desert in the spring cart. 

The occupants of the cart called on Mrs. Horner, 
Mrs. Borton and the other women on the desert 
whom they could reach in the afternoon’s riding. 

They were received with smiles, and all the 


142 


COMRADES OP THE DESERT 


women gladly entered into the conspiracy planned. 
The time had come when they could do something 
to help the boys in a most delightful manner, owing 
to Sister Mary’s thoughtfulness. 

The days grew warmer and warmer. The ther- 
mometer was one hundred and ten in the house. 
The nights were cool and comfortable, but with the 
coming of the sun the discomfort of the day began. 
During the day the flies were bad, and at night, 
when the lamps were lighted, bugs by the hundred 
flew in from out of doors and worried those who 
had the lights. 

Many people who could, managed without lamps 
in the summer evenings by reason of the bugs. The 
days were long, and it did not get dark until 
nearly eight o’clock. Desert inhabitants rose early, 
so they followed the old motto : 

“Early to bed and early to rise. 

Makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.” 

The rolling stretch of sage standing in a sea of 
hot, burning sand, gave out the heat in shimmering 
waves. The relentless sun above shone unblink- 
ingly in the clear sky, day after day sending forth 
his fiery rays. The very lizards lay panting on the 
hot sands, and seldom was a rabbit seen jumping 
the sage except in the cool of the evening. 

Some days, the wind arose, and blew for many 


SISTER MARY PLANS SURPRISE 143 


hours at a stretch. It was a hot, dry, parching 
wind, bringing no relief with it. While the storm 
raged, it was necessary to keep all doors and win- 
dows closed, not only on account of what sand 
might blow, but because the wind was strong 
enough to blow the rugs from the floor against the 
wall, unless chairs and furniture held them down. 

It was through this sickening weather that Jolly, 
Bob, Sam and Grant trudged daily to and from the 
salt works, and did their day’s work until the 
works were closed. They always wore broad- 
brimmed hats to get what shade they could, a thin 
shirt, overalls and thick shoes to keep the heat of 
the sand from burning through to their blistering 
feet. 

They did not complain of the heat. They en- 
dured it, and their money was well earned. 

“It’s no wonder,” Jolly said one day, “that the 
Indians said that whoever tried to cross the desert 
would never reach the other side, is it?” 

“No,” replied Grant. “Who did the Indians 
make that remark to?” 

“They warned Fremont when he wanted to cross 
this desert. Fremont Anally crossed the far eastern 
end, I think, because the desert is more narrow. 
He had some Indians in his party, and the whole 
crowd were a sight when they reached the south.” 

“Won’t we have a pretty hot trip going south?” 


144 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


‘ ‘ Sure we will, until we hit the mountains ! ’ ’ 
Jolly said. “We’ll only be about four days until 
we leave the desert behind and get into the moun- 
tains. I’m counting on our making about fifteen 
miles a day. We will not feel the heat any more 
then than we do this minute.” 

Jolly continued: “This is our last day at the 
salt works. My mother told me to invite you fel- 
lows over to our house this evening. I guess she’s 
going to have a social. It is a long time since we 
have had one.” 

The boys were delighted at this invitation. It 
seemed a fitting end to their hard work to have a 
party, and they all parted in good spirits. 


“FROM DESERT FRIENDS^’ 


145 


CHAPTER XIX. 

“FROM DESERT FRIENDS.” 

It was the evening of the big surprise that Sister 
Mary had planned. It was a clear, moonlight night, 
and no wind was blowing for which she was thank- 
ful. 

To Jolly’s surprise, people began to arrive from 
all points of the desert, just before dark. They 
came on horseback, in carriages, machines, some 
riding burros, and others were walking. It was a 
large gathering. Jolly counted the people. There 
must have been about thirty of them. As they came 
they lifted parcels of something into the kitchen, 
but the four boys did not notice this, for they were 
busy out in the moonlight beginning a game of 
‘‘Flying Dutchman” with those who had already 
arrived. Baby Jim sat on a sand dune near by. 
As usual, he was hugging his kitten, and Keeno 
was standing guard. 

The women who had babies, brought them also. 
The babies were placed in a row on Jolly’s mother’s 
bed. This was always the custom at the social, for 
the babies must get their sleep. Jolly often won- 


146 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


dered how the mothers knew their own babies, for 
they all looked alike to him! 

Lean Jim had an air of great importance that 
night. He frequently left the game that old and 
young alike were playing out on the moonlit sand, 
and disappeared in the house, and came forth all 
smiles. His eyes twinkled as he looked at the four 
boys, who were absorbed in their fun. 

Sister Mary finally sounded a bell, and every one 
broke from the circle and ran for the house. It 
was time to eat, and refreshments were a feature of 
desert socials. Every woman brought something 
good, and when the women were such cooks as Mrs. 
Horner and Mrs. Jim, who had cows and chickens, 
eating was a pleasure. 

Let’s eat out in the moonlight, and get away 
from these bugs 1 ’ ’ called out Lean Jim, so all could 
hear him. This was an agreeable plan, and every 
one, with laden plates, filed out in the moonlight, 
squatted on the sand in a circle, like Indians, and 
enjoyed sandwiches, cakes, pie and lemonade. 

It was when they had finished that Lean Jim 
arose to his feet. Every one looked at him as he 
stood silent a moment. Jolly, Grant, Sam and 
Bob looked, too, in some surprise. It was not like 
Lean Jim to want to make a speech. Maybe he 
was going to tell a story! 

But no; it was a speech, after all. While four 


“FROM DESERT FRIENDS” 


147 


young, hard-working boys listened to what Lean 
Jim had to say, they felt at first embarrassment, 
and then a glow of pride and of happiness. Lean 
Jim praised them for the work they had done in 
their efforts to earn their own education and to 
help themselves rather than be a burden to their 
parents. 

Then Lean Jim said, simply: “Come into the 
house, boys. The people of the desert want to show 
that they are eager to have their hand in and be a 
help.” 

Silently, the four boys, with the others at the 
social, went into the big living room of Jolly’s 
house. Sister Mary was there, and before her was 
a large heap of parcels in the center of the floor. 
Sister Mary was smiling, and she motioned the boys 
to the heap as she moved out of the way. 

The lads moved to the center of the room. There 
on the top of the pile was a label which read: “A 
gift to help four ambitious boys. Jolly, Bob, Grant 
and Sam, on their trip to Los Angeles. This comes 
with wishes for success from desert friends.” 

That was all, and at the voice of Little Jack 
Horner ordering them to open their bundles, and 
not stand and look, the boys began the unwrapping 
of bundles and revealing of many things. 

Such things as th'Cre were ! The parcels con- 
tained a complete outfit, with the exception of bed- 
ding, for the boys’ trip to Los Angeles! 


148 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


There was a medicine and sewing kit, rope, 
hatchet, soap, matches, frying pan, eating utensils, 
four canteens, salt and pepper, a folding bucket, 
lantern, beans, condensed milk, coffee and choco- 
late, bacon, flapjack flour, nuts and raisins, pota- 
toes, concentrated soup and dried fruits. There 
was nothing that would spoil, and everything could 
be packed neatly on the burros. 

The boys looked at Jolly. He felt the tears come 
to his eyes, and perhaps the best thanks these kind- 
hearted people received was the expression on the 
grateful lads’ faces. Jolly stepped forward in his 
manly way, and expressed thanks, in behalf of the 
Sidewinder Club, for the helpful gifts that had 
been given so kindly. 

While every one was talking and enjoying them- 
selves after the big surprise, the four boys gathered 
around Lean Jim, who gave them some pointers on 
camping and cooking in the camp. One of the 
things impressed on them was about fire. 

“Above all things,” he cautioned, “don’t make 
a forest fire in the mountains or anywhere else, for 
then you would get into trouble. After you leave 
the desert behind you and enter the mountains, al- 
ways wet the ground around where you are going 
to light your fire, so the blaze cannot spread if it 
tries. If you have not enough water to do that, 


“FROM DESERT FRIENDS” 


149 


clear the ground of all things for several feet. Be 
sure you extinguish the blaze when you leave. 
Throw water or dirt over it.” 

Thus were preparations begun for the camping 
trip, and thus closed the evening of Sister Mary’s 
surprise party. 


150 


comrades of the desert 


CHAPTER XX. 

AN ENEMY APPEARS. 

The morning dawned clear and bright on the day 
that the boys were to leave on their camping trip. 
It was not yet sunrise when they were all gathered 
at Jolly’s house ready to start. Six burros were 
ready with packs on their backs. Besides the food 
and supplies, the boys were taking their six coyote 
skins with them for sale. 

At last the cry came from Jolly, who was the 
leader: “Hurrah! We’re off!” He snatched his 
hat from his head, ran and kissed his mother an- 
other farewell, and the trail to Los Angeles began. 

Sam and Jolly had to watch two burros each, 
while Bob and Grant had one apiece, but all were 
to help when necessary. They each carried a strong 
staff which Lean Jim had cut from mountain trees 
for them on one of his numerous trips to Bakers- 
field. The lads could either walk or ride their 
burros by giving two of the little beasts more to 
carry, but they planned to wait until the burden 
was lighter. 

‘ ‘ Oh, but we ’re in for a good time ! ’ ’ cried Bob, 


AN ENEMY APPEARS 


151 


gleefully, as the party trudged down the road past 
the store. 

“About how far did you say we’d get today, 
Jolly?” queried Grant. 

“We can camp this side of Mojave tonight, I 
think, and tomorrow we will come to the highway 
that goes from there to Los Angeles, I guess.” 

Mile after mile, in the hot sun, the boys and their 
burros trudged. They had to drink much water, 
for it was very, very hot in the sun. The burro is 
an animal that does not have to drink often, so it 
is especially adapted to the heat and dryness of the 
desert. 

At noon the weary travelers had reached a de- 
serted shack on the desert. Seated in its shade, 
they unpacked a few things, including canned 
beans, sandwiches, and cake Mrs. Horner had given 
them, and dried fruit. Though they were so warm, 
the walking had made them very hungry, and they 
ate heartily. 

“I feel like going to sleep,” remarked Sam, 
yawning. 

“Let’s take what the Mexicans call a siesta,” 
suggested Jolly. 

“I thought of that,” said smiling Sam; “but I 
was afraid you’d think I was lazy.” 

So it was agreed to sleep while the sun was beat- 
ing down so relentlessly. The burros were hobbled, 


152 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


and the boys declared they would do some walking 
after dark, if it was necessary. 

It was four o’clock when Jolly opened his eyes, 
with a start, and then recollected where he was. 

“Here, wake up, you fellows! It’s four o’clock. 
This is no way for us to do.” 

The three boys awoke, and then began to laugh. 

“Well, we’re fine fellows, I must say. We 
wouldn’t even make good hoboes!” exclaimed Sam, 
stretching. 

Though the sage and greasewood the trail was 
resumed. It was nightfall when the boys stopped, 
and made camp for the night. They chose a spot 
surrounded by tall greasewood, at some distance 
from the road and from the branch of the railroad 
which goes through Cantil to Owenyo. 

“All scramble for firewood now, while I find the 
coffee and bacon! I guess we’ll have to eat beans 
every meal. No; we’d better have potatoes tonight, 
and I’ll try my hand at fiapjacks.” With this 
Jolly lighted the lantern until the moon should be 
up. Sam, Grant and Bob found plenty of wood, 
and soon the fire was burning in a bright blaze. 

It seemed to the four friends that they had never 
had so much fun in their lives as they had over the 
camp fire that evening. The hot meal tasted deli- 
cious to them, for they were very hungry, and Jolly 
really was not a bad cook. 

As soon as supper was over, the boys cleared up. 


AN ENEMY APPEARS 


153 


put out their fire, unrolled their blankets on the 
ground, and crawled under them. 

Jolly was the only one who did not fall asleep. 
He lay looking up' at the pale stars and the big, 
clear moon. His heart was thankful that he and 
his friends had earned their money, and were so 
near the goal towards which they were striving. 
He was a little afraid, as he lay there and realized 
’ that he and his friends were the only human beings 
within many miles, and it was while he was still 
musing on this that he fell asleep. 

Another day passed like the first one — hearty 
appetites, and a rest at noon, and another night 
beneath the stars. Mojave had been passed, and, 
though they had a long road yet to go, the moun- 
tains were in sight, and held promise of relief from 
the scorching sands. 

The boys were spending their last night on the 
desert, when the unexpected and the terrible hap- 
pened. 

Sam and Jolly had their blankets on the ground, 
very close together, and Grant and Bob were on 
the other side of Sam. These two had fallen asleep, 
but Sam and Jolly were whispering their ideas 
about entering the mountains the next morning, 
for they were so near the foothills. Their trip 
through Mint canyon would take them at least two 
days. 


154 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


“Say!” hissed Jolly in Sam’s ear, suddenly, “I 
heard a noise, and it wasn’t from the burros, for 
they are all over there!” 

He pointed towards the hills. 

The boys lay, with straining ears and thumping 
hearts. For a moment there was silence ; then 
there was the sound of a step through the under- 
brush. 

Jolly’s heart stopped beating, he was sure, for 
almost a minute; for there, peering through a bush 
about four feet from his head, was the face of a 
man ! 

Sam followed Jolly’s horror-stricken eyes, and 
saw the face. With his eyes staring straight into 
the evil eyes of the man, he whispered these words 
to Jolly: 

“It’s the claim jumper!” 

And then Jolly, too, recognized that face. Like 
little birds hypnotized by the steady glare of a 
snake who is after his prey, the eyes of Jolly and 
Sam were on the eyes of the claim jumper as he 
crawled from out the bushes and seated himself by 
Jolly on the ground! 

“Well, I’ve got you now. Ilain’t I, kids?” he 
leered. “Thought I’d never git the pleasure of 
paying you on that little deal you pulled off on 
me last spring. Now, how’ll I fix you? Cut your 


AN ENEMY APPEARS 


155 


tongues out? Push your eyes in?’’ He rubbed his 
bristly chin, reflectively. 

Bob and Grant awakened, and heard these words, 
and they also recognized the man. Grant began to 
cry, and Bob was so near it that he had to flght 
himself. 

Jolly and Sam were almost petrified with fright. 
Jolly tried to sit up on his blanket. He had some 
idea that if all the boys would fight at the same 
/time they might down the man. But no; his gun 
glimmered in the moonlight as it had glittered on 
that memorable night. 

As Jolly made the attempt at sitting up the 
claim jumper reached out his hand and brushed 
him down as easily as a Newfoundland dog would 
push a playful kitten aside. 

“No, you don’t, you fresh kid!” the ruffian said. 

He sat again in deep thought. He saw the boys 
were very much frightened, and that was enough 
to please him for the time being. 

“Let’s see,” he murmured, as though to himself. 
“If it wasn’t for you brats, I’d hev had a gold 
mine by this. Ain’t that true?” 

He eyed the trembling Jolly again. 

“Thought you were smart, didn’t you, you little 
!” 

The boys said not a word. Grant sobbed pitifully 
in the darkness, and Bob lay rigidly waiting for 


156 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


the next action, as did the other three. Jolly, being 
nearest to the man, had the most cause for fright. 
This flitted through his mind, but it was followed 
by the remembrance that he was the Father Side- 
winder, and that he bore the greatest responsibility. 

“Whatcha got over there?” the claim jumper 
asked, pointing to some of the supplies that Bob 
and Grant had taken from their burro. 

Jolly was voiceless, and the other boys did not 
answer, because they thought it might be Jolly’s 
policy to be still. 

As he received no reply, the claim jumper arose, 
gave Jolly a ringing box on the ears for not an- 
swering him, and went to investigate. 

The four boys were afraid to make an attack. 
They had no firearms, and of what would their 
strength avail against this armed brute? They lay 
quiet. 

A joyful cry from the claim jumper was next 
heard. 

“Bedad! I’ll have enough supplies to take me to 
Frisco or San Diego, or any bloomin’ place my 
wanderin ’ fancy leads me ! ” he exclaimed. 

He was rummaging through the pack of food. He 
took a piece of canvas from the pack, and began 
loading it with the eatables. In dismay the boys 
saw their bacon, canned beans, milk, dried fruit 


AN ENEMY APPEARS 


157 


and potatoes going. He was taking everything he 
could find! 

“Well!” he drawled at last, “I guess you’ll be 
bad enough off without my givin’ ye the lickin’ ye 
deserve. ” 

He threw the pack on his shoulder, came over to 
where the boys lay in agony, as they saw starvation 
before them, gave them each a hearty kick with his 
coarse boot, and struck out across the desert. 

Jolly noticed particularly that the man went 
across the desert, because that meant he was bound 
in the opposite direction, and would therefore 
bother them no more. He also saw that the man 
had apparently not noticed the small pack of food 
that he had taken from his burro and laid at some 
distance from the other packs. 

Bob and Grant cried themselves to sleep again, 
but Jolly and Sam lay with eyes straining in the 
darkness, fearful that the terrible visitor might 
again appear, and wondering how the journey was 
to be completed with almost no food. 


158 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE END OF THE TRAIL. 

“What are we going to do now, Jolly?” asked 
Sam, as the boys were rolling up their blankets the 
next morning. 

“We have enough to last us until we get to a 
place where we can get something to take with us 
to eat,” answered Jolly. 

“But we haven’t any money,” urged Sam. “Only 
four dollars between us!” 

“We’ll have to trade a coyote skin for grub,” 
suggested Grant, who had partly recovered from 
the fright of the night before. 

“They were stolen, too! Oh, it seems as if he 
might have spared us those ! That ’s thirty dollars 
and all of the grub except what I had in my pack 
over there!” 

Jolly was now nearer crying than he had been 
the night before. The joy seemed to have gone out 
of life for a little while for the boys. They had 
lost their grub and coyote skins that meant so much 
money, and they were stranded without a cent. 

“Well, the only thing we can do is to try to kill 


THE END OF THE TRAIL 


159 


rabbits or birds, eat acorns when we get to the oak 
trees in the mountains, and if we come to any small 
town or store or homestead well have to stop and 
earn a meal or some food to take with us.” 

A light meal on dried fruit and chocolate made 
with condensed milk served for breakfast. The 
appetites were not satisfied, but, to leave enough of 
the fruit and condensed milk for about three more 
meals, the boys had to go on short rations. 

Jolly tried to cheer the boys up by repeating the 
verse they had learned at school: 

“It is easy enough to be pleasant 

When life goes along like a song; 

But the man worth while is the man who will 
smile 

When everything goes dead wrong.” 

About three in the afternoon the boys came to a 
small store. They had stopped at a homestead for 
a drink soon after they had entered the foothills, 
but an old man had been very gruff with them, 
and in their failing spirits they did not have the 
strength to ask favors of him. 

Arriving at the store, a fat, smiling woman 
greeted them. 

“You be traveling a long way?” she questioned, 
as they stopped at a tank in front of the store for 
water. 


160 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


“We are on our way from the desert to Los An- 
geles to sell our burros,” answered Jolly. “Last 
night a man robbed us of nearly all our food and 
of six coyote pelts we had been promised five dol- 
lars apiece for. He said he’d push our eyes in, 
’cause once we caught him jumping a claim.” 

Jolly wiped his eyes on his coat sleeve. He was 
very tired, hungry and dirty, and he felt the re- 
sponsibility for the whole trip. 

“Glory be!” ejaculated the fat woman. “You 
come right in here, and set a spell.” 

She pulled Jolly into the store, and sat him on a 
box. The other boys followed suit. 

“Now, you don’t tell me another thing till I’ve 
gotten you kids something to put in your little 
aching stomachs.” 

With that, she bustled off, and the boys could 
hear her in the next room, crashing plates around 
and moving rapidly for one so heavy. A delicious 
odor came from the room, and peace settled over 
the hearts of the little wayfarers. 

The fat woman soon appeared. She carried a 
tray that held four bowls of tomato cream soup 
and crackers. She told the boys to place their 
boxes before the counter. They sat obediently in a 
line, drinking the delicious soup, for they were very 
hungry. 

Meanwhile, the impromptu hostess was in the 


THE END OF THE TRAIL 


161 


kitchen again. Her next trip brought her early 
return with fresh meat, fried bread, gravy and 
glasses of fresh, cool milk: 

“And you’ll have ice cream for dessert, because 
we sell it here!” she said, triumphantly smoothing 
her apron. 

The boys ate ravenously, and the fat woman 
seemed very pleased with them. When they had 
finished, at last, she was ready with her orders. 

“You go out now and wash and tidy yourselves 
at the trough, and I’ll call my man Jim, and we’ll 
hear your story.” 

The four felt like boys again, with their hunger 
satisfied, and a kindly woman fussing over them. 

It was Jolly, of course, who had to tell the 
whole story. The fat woman’s admiration knew 
no bounds. She was absolutely electrified by the 
recital, and when Jolly had concluded she flew to 
him and put her arms around him. 

“You dear little fellers!” she cried. “How you 
have worked and suffered! Just like little men, 
you are!” 

“Her Jim,” as she called him, was a quiet, meek 
little man, and he, too, was much impressed with 
Jolly’s story. He remembered the claim jumper 
passing through the country the day before and 
stopping to buy tobacco. 

“I’ll take one of your burros off your hands. 


162 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


and pay yon in grub that will last you the rest 
of your journey,’’ said the man. ‘‘So, if you are 
willing, you need not worry about that. I guess 
I’ll have to give you about five dollars besides the 
grub,” he added, on second thought, as he looked 
at his hearty spouse, who was entirely sympathetic 
by the unhappy predicament the boys were in. 

At the invitation of their kinds friends, the boys 
remained at the store over night, and after a 
hearty breakfast they resumed their travels. Their 
spirits were normal again, and their supplies were 
replenished from the stock of the store. They had 
but five burros now, whose loads were not heavy, 
and some of the boys rode a portion of the time. 

The trail through Mint canyon seemed long, but 
it was less monotonous than the desert. The boys 
enjoyed the changing view of the hills and the 
winding road. They could not make very rapid 
progress, as much of the way was uphill, and they 
were constantly having to turn out of the way of 
machines. A part of the trail could be beside the 
road, but not all. 

Days of quiet traveling passed, and the boys felt 
the joy of camping as the sense of danger left them. 
The cool air was a wonderful treat, and none could 
have chosen a more pleasant, care-free vacation 
than they were having. 


THE END OF THE TRAIL 


163 


Saugus, Newhall, were passed, and the boys were 
in the beautiful San Fernando valley. 

Occupants in passing machines looked curiously 
at the dusty, brown, healthy-looking boys driving 
the five pack burros. Often boys and girls would 
come out and stare at the outfit, and the four felt 
very grown up indeed when they saw boys of their 
own age stopping to look at them. Some of them 
asked questions, but Jolly was very reserved, 
though always polite. He said, when questioned, 
that they had come from the other side of the 
mountains, with burros for sale. 

It was necessary each night to camp outside the 
city limits of the small but flourishing towns they 
passed through, for city people do not care for 
campers within their gates. 

The boys rode their burros into Glendale. It was 
there Miss Bowen lived, and it was there the burros 
were to be sold. Glendale is a suburb of Los An- 
geles. 

After some inquiring, the boys found out where 
Miss Bowen lived. Dusty and travel-worn, they 
approached the neat little bungalow down a long 
street lined with bungalows. 

Miss Bowen was sitting on the porch reading. 
She looked up, and saw the queer little procession 
approaching. In an instant she recognized the 
group. 


164 


COMRADES 0 ¥ THE DESERT 


“Oh,” she cried, gladly, “it’s my boys!” 

She ran out to greet them. A motherly looking 
woman came out on the porch, and smiled as she 
saw her daughter’s happiness, and the weary little 
fellows^ knew their troubles were over. 


THE CITY OF THE ANGELS 


165 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE CITY OF THE ANGELS. 

Los Angeles held much that was of interest to 
the desert boys, three of whom had never been 
there before. Though it made them nervous, the 
crowds of people, machines and street cars, it was 
very interesting to them. Prom their history they 
knew something of the settling of Los Angeles by 
the Spanish people, and its consequent growth 
when the Gringo arrived. 

Anxious to impress some of the history on the 
minds of her pupils in an attractive and practical 
manner. Miss Bowen took them to the Plaza, the 
original center of the town when Spain was in 
control. There they saw, lounging around, many 
picturesque Mexicans, in their sombreros and 
brightly colored neck pieces. They saw the moving 
picture houses, with Spanish titles over them, and 
the stores, with advertisements in similar tongue. 
They visited the mission near by, and another day 
went to San Gabriel, and visited that mission. They 
also saw the “Mission Play,’^ which tells in a vivid, 
appealing and beautiful manner, the founding of 


166 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


the missions by Father Junipero Serra, and of his 
task in winning the Indians to Christianity. 

This was very wonderful and typically Califor- 
nian, and a fitting supplement to desert experiences 
enjoyed by the little travelers. 

One of the greatest treats was the day spent at 
the beach. 

The morning was foggy when the party left Glen- 
dale by the electric car to go to Los Angeles, and 
then by car to Santa Monica. 

The fog began gradually to break away by the 
time the street ear was humming its way over the 
stretching of unoccupied fields en route, through 
small towns, and on to the ocean. 

Jolly was the first to catch sight of the ocean, as 
it lay in the distance, a glinting mass of blue water 
as far as the eye could see. 

“Oh, look,’’ he cried, much to the amusement of 
the other passengers on the car who heard him. 
“Is it the ocean or is it a mirage?” 

Miss Bowen laughed merrily. 

“It is the Pacific ocean,” she assured him. “We 
do not have mirages here. They are reserved for 
the desert only.” 

“But I have seen a mirage of water as clear as I 
see that ocean now,” remarked Sam, who really 
was not sure but that the beauty before him might 


THE CITY OF THE ANGELS 


167 


fade as he had seen many apparent bodies of water 
do in sagebrush land. 

As the car drew nearer, the boys saw that in- 
deed it was not a mirage. They heard the roar 
of the waters, the breaking of the waves upon the 
white, clear sand; they smelt the crisp dampness of 
the ocean air, and realized that at last they were 
in sight of the sea. 

On the cliffs at Santa Monica the four boys ran 
wild with delight. They were here, there and 
everywhere, and at last came the demand to go in 
swimming. 

Towards the close of the day Jolly said to Miss 
Bowen: “I am not disloyal to the desert by liking 
the ocean. It is just the change!’^ 

“That is it,” nodded Miss Bowen, “and change 
is what broadens a person.” 

“There is something about the ocean thal^ re- 
minds me of the desert,” continued Jolly, as he 
looked at the restless water. “I wonder what it 
is!” 

Miss Bowen looked thoughtful. “It has that 
impression on me, too,” she said. “I think it is the 
grandeur of the sight which rouses in us a certain 
awe of both of nature’s works, the stretch of end- 
less gray sage and the stretch of rolling waters.” 

One day was spent in the city shopping. Suit- 
able clothes must be chosen, with limited finances 


168 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


at the shoppers’ disposal. This took much figuring, 
and it was the hardest day that four boys had ever 
spent, to their minds. They could clear desert land 
and round up cattle, but when it came to trudging 
cement walks, dodging people, and trying store 
after store for what they wanted, they found it a 
tiresome and unpleasant task. 

“It’s no wonder city people look so cross, and 
kind of small, and afraid of mussing their clothes ! ’ ’ 
exclaimed Jolly, yawning, that night. “I’d rather 
lasso a fighting steer any day than go shopping.” 

Still another day was spent in looking for work 
to earn spare money in spare moments during the 
winter. Boh and Jolly finally accepted positions in 
a small restaurant near the school. Their duties 
were to wash dishes and clean the floors morning 
and evening on school days, and all day Saturday. 
Sunday they were to he free. 

They were not very enthusiastic over this job, 
but it was the best paying available one, and also 
the one which promised constant work if they gave 
satisfaction. They accepted it before any other 
applicants might appear. 

It was the close of the fourth day when, upon 
reaching home, Mrs. Bowen had handed Jolly a 
telegram. As Jolly had never seen a telegram, he 
was somewhat astonished. He opened it. It was 


THE CITY OF THE ANGELS 


169 


sent from Mojave, the nearest telegraph station 
from his home. 

“Father hurt. Come immediately.” 

It was signed by Jolly’s mother. 

Poor Jolly was almost stunned. He handed the 
telegram to Miss Bowen. She was full of sympathy 
for him. 

“You must take the morning train for home,” 
she said, and Jolly agreed. 

“If you go, I go!” announced Bob. 

“We’ll all go with Jolly,” agreed Sam. 

Jolly did not want his friends to shorten their 
vacation on his account. But the pleasure would 
be greatly lessened without Jolly, and they knew 
that in his sorrow and trouble it was their place to 
be with Jolly, as they had been together in work 
and in play for the past year. 

The early train carried four saddened boys to the 
desert. Bob’s father was in Mojave, with his ma- 
chine, to meet the train and to take the boys across 
the desert to their homes. 

Jolly thought, as they rode once more through 
the winding sage, of how happy they had all been 
when last they followed this trail 1 He thought how 
uncertain everything in life was, and wondered 
sadly what the future held in store for him and for 
his friends. 


170 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE LAST BATTLE WON. 

‘‘Tell me about it,” said Jolly to Mr. Borton, 
when he boys had climbed in the machine, which 
was now headed northeast across the familiar 
sage. 

“Your father was working, yesterday morning, 
in Mr. Brown’s mine up the canyon, and one of the 
men let the bucket drop on his head. He was 
pulled from the shaft, and given first aid, but his 
condition is grave. It might be a fractured skull. 
We got the doctor from Mojave, and he says your 
father must go to the hospital in Bakesfield to- 
night.” 

Jolly was almost crushed. 

“Is he conscious?” he asked. 

“No,” replied Mr. Borton; “he has not recovered 
consciousness since the accident. 

The twenty-six mile drive was taken with almost 
no conversation. 

When Jolly entered his home, his mother, who 
seemed to have aged ten years, stepped up quietly 
to greet her son. She put her head on the boy’s 


THE LAST BATTLE WON 


171 


shoulder, and cried gently, and Jolly felt the tears 
coming to his eyes. 

“Surely, mother, it will come out all right. Do 
not grieve so. Where is father?” 

His mother pointed to the bedroom door, and 
Jolly tiptoed in. Sister Mary was sitting by the 
bedside, with tear-stained eyes. They brightened 
as Jolly entered. A still, white form lay on the 
bed. The eyes were closed, and it was difficult to 
tell whether the form was breathing or not. 

There was nothing any one could do except to 
wait for the time when the injured man could he 
taken to the hospital. The time passed on heavy 
wings. 

In the afternoon. Sister Mary left the bedside, 
and came to Jolly, who was sitting on a pile of ties 
in the shade of the shack. 

“Jolly, dear, can you stand another blow?” she 
asked, gently. 

Jolly nodded his head miserably, and turned his 
face towards his sister, as she seated herself beside 
him. 

“Jolly,” she began, “this is hard for me to say.” 

“Is father dead?” 

“No, dear; but it is that YOU can help to save 
his life!” 

Jolly felt a thrill going through him. What 
could he do? 


172 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


‘‘It’s money Mother needs to pay Father’s ex- 
penses, or he cannot go to Bakersfield tonight for 
care. He must have an operation to save his life.” 

Then Jolly understood. His money! The money 
he had given, with his friends, every spare minute 
to earn to go to school. He gulped. He felt his 
body grow hot, and then cold. The great sacrifice 
of his life had come. 

Jolly smiled through a rainbow of tears. 

“Why, Sister Mary,” he said, putting his arms 
around his sister, “my half of that sum of money 
shall go to father! How splendid that I have it!” 

The tears were coming fast now. Jumping from 
the pile of wood. Jolly kissed his sister, and ran 
off to the sage, with tears streaming down his face, 
to regain his self-control. And Sister Mary under- 
stood. She sat on the ties, and crocheted, and in a 
cracked little voice she tried to hum a tune. She 
had given up the fifty dollars her father had given 
her for her wedding clothes to help with expenses, 
but to think of Jolly’s sacrifice! 

Jolly fought with himself. He dashed the tears 
from his eyes. He looked up at the blue sky with 
a prayer in his heart for courage. How thankful 
he was for a chance to save his father! 

He stood looking down a badger hole. He ab- 
sently patted Keeno’s head as the dog stood beside 


THE LAST BATTLE WON 


173 


him, wagging his long tail. He traced the outline 
of Chuckwalla peak against the sky, and on to 
Sugar Loaf his eye roved. He looked without see- 
ing at the beginning of the colors of the sky as the 
sun was nearing the horizon. He put his hands in 
his pockets. His mind seemed to stand still for a 
moment. 

Then came a rush of thought. He saw his 
father’s pale face and closed eyes. His dear mother, 
as she tried so bravely to greet him, and then 
sobbed on his shoulder. Just think! HE could 
relieve all that suffering! He almost felt a tingle 
of joy. He was himself again, and he returned 
to Sister Mary. 

‘‘We had better tell mother that there are four 
hundred dollars in the bank waiting to help father, 
hadn’t we?” 

Sister Mary nodded her head. The two went to 
the house. 

In the brief instant that Jolly’s mother leaned 
on him for courage and support, and her cry of 
relief when Jolly calmly stated that the money was 
waiting for her to use, and she must go to Bakers- 
field with her husband. Jolly’s last thought of him- 
self vanished. 

When the late night train came through the val- 
ley that night, it bore away into the darkness a 


174 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


very sick man and his wife to the city, where a son 
had made possible an operation that might save a 
life. 

“Is father so dreadfully poor, Sister Mary?” 
Jolly asked, as he dressed Baby Jim while Sister 
cooked breakfast. 

“We could have managed nicely,” Sister Mary 
replied; “but father had just invested some money 
in Dusty’s claim, and it has paid nothing.” 

Jolly’s three friends came to see him the next 
morning. Jolly told them that he was not going to 
the high school this year, as he had given his 
money to his father, and he would be needed at 
home to take his father’s place. 

The sad news was received quietly by the boys. 
Bob was grief-stricken, while Sam and Grant were 
greatly sobered. The boys remained with Jolly all 
that day. They chopped wood with him, helped 
clear a piece of ground near the house, and mended 
a broken place in the fence. 

Sister Mary watched the boys from the window 
as her duties led her near, and her heart was very 
full as she thought how brave and loyal those 
young fellows were. It was a comfort to Jolly to 
have his friends with him, for he knew that, as that 
day passed, his father’s life was hanging in the 
balance on the operating table. 

The next day Bob and his father drove to Mo- 


THE LAST BATTLE WON 


175 


jave, and from there telephoned to Bakersfield to 
ascertain how the sick man was. 

The nurse’s voice came over the wire: “He will 
recover unless there are complications. He is rest- 
ing easily. The operation saved him.” 

This news brought great joy to the little house- 
hold on the desert. 

The next day there was a knock at the open door 
of the shack. Jolly was wiping the supper dishes 
for Sister Mary. He ran to the door. 

“Come in!” he called. 

Dusty walked in. His brown face was shining, 
and he swept off his sombrero as Sister Mary came 
to see who had come. Dusty held a white paper in 
his hand. He held it out to Jolly, who took it. 

The paper was a check made out to Jolly for one 
thousand dollars! 

Jolly looked at it uncomprehendingly, and then 
handed it to Sister Mary. 

Dusty grinned. “You kids thought I did not 
mean it, maybe, when I told you I’d make good to 
you when my claim paid! She is paying rich now, 
that claim you helped to save ! Your Dad has some 
interest in it, and it’ll pay him some, too, by Golly! 
I have just come from Bakersfield, where I saw 
your father. He is getting along fine. Your mother 
said to me, when I had told her the good news, and 
showed her what you were going to draw, ‘Tell 


176 


COMRADES OF THE DESERT 


Jolly to get ready to go to high school, and well 
be down to visit him soon. Tell Sister Mary to be 
sure and wash those blue shirts for him and tell 
Baby Jim to be good.’ ” 

Dusty, Sister Mary and Jolly broke into a laugh, 
and then Jolly, feeling that the happiness that was 
in him was too great to bear, stepped from the door 
of the shack into the desert, and strode under the 
stars, out on his beloved sage. 
















